


if you don't mind me saying so (i love you)

by moonrunes



Series: Love Like Fools [1]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: M/M, Undercover as a Couple, hopefully a sort of slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22485487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrunes/pseuds/moonrunes
Summary: Investigating a grassroots anti-mutant movement at a local college means that Roberto and Sam need to be undercover -- as a couple. What could possibly go wrong? Title comes from "Secrets Are No Fun" by Bad Bad Hats,and updates come every Thursday.now complete!!
Relationships: Roberto da Costa/Sam Guthrie
Series: Love Like Fools [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1796362
Comments: 91
Kudos: 88





	1. Icebreaker

**Author's Note:**

> written in response to a prompt given by tumblr user @robertodacosta! updates hopefully every thursday, as long as i have access to a computer!

RUN DECRYPTION.

Mission Log:

USER: CYCLOPS

Briefing:  
There’s some sort of underground threat brewing in the city. We all know it, but the lack of solid evidence makes it a little hard to either find responsibility or prove it exists and it isn’t just us being jumpy. From what we can guess, it seems to be a sort of grassroots movement on college campuses, so I’m sending Sam and Roberto to live there as college students for a few months. I’m also letting Dani take the reins more on this mission -- she’s a good leader, and this will give her a chance to become even better. The boys will stay in touch with us through mail, as Sage assures me that tampering with someone’s mail is a federal offense. Hopefully all goes well -- if not, I have faith that Dani will be able to handle it. If she needs it, I’ll step in -- but if not, then it’s her mission.

~~~

“Is this everything?”

“Yeah, I think so. Not much, is it?”

Sam shook his head, laughing. “Just enough for an apartment the size of this one, Bobby. That’s the boy millionaire in you talking.”

Roberto shoved him in response. “I’m just _saying_. How long is this supposed to take again?”

“We don’t know.” Scott placed a pot carefully in a cabinet and straightened back up with a grunt. “At least a month. At most-”

“A full academic year. Ready for college, Sam?”

Sam grimaced and Roberto’s laugh bubbled out of his chest, bursting out and coloring their new home golden. “That’s the spirit!”

Behind him, Paige draped a blanket over the futon occupying most of the little space between the two bedrooms, smiling. “‘S okay, Sam. You don’t actually have to go -- right, Scott?”

“Well…”

“Oh, no. We’re enlisted under false identities and you’re _still_ going to encourage us to do well?” Roberto spread his arms and smiled winningly. “Even with the massive dent that this is putting into both my and Warren’s pockets, paying for this little mission?”

“All the more reason for you to do well.”

“False identities,” Sam argued, sitting down on the futon. “Once all this stuff blows over I’ll go back to college again someday, but that doesn’t mean anything _now_.”

“You should always strive to do your best,” Scott remarked. Behind him, Dani kicked the door open, a cardboard box in her arms, sweat shining on her arms. 

“What are we talking about?”

“I don’t want to actually have to go to classes,” declared Roberto, leaning against the table. “I’m gonna infiltrate party culture and party culture alone.”

Scott snorted. “Your class schedule should be on the student website. Dani?”

“Yeah. Here’s the usernames and passwords-” she handed them slips of paper and Roberto sighed dramatically, “-you’re basically gonna be going to classes -- actually going to classes, please -- staying low, join a couple clubs, and keep your eyes peeled for quote-unquote ‘suspicious activity.’”

“Nice. Anything else?”

“Don’t be suspicious?” Dani drew her hair back over her shoulders and shrugged. “We’ll be monitoring the situation and we’ll be able to pull you out at any time, so just don’t accidentally blow anything up, don’t blow your cover, and you should be fine.”

“Should be.”

“Should be. Run through your cover stories again?”

Roberto gave her a mock salute. “Sure thing, fearless leader. I’m Roberto de Santos -- which, by the way, sounds like you just Googled ‘Brazilian last names’ -- and I’m a transfer international student. I chose this university ‘cause my mom is American and she lived close to here. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Yup. Sam?”

“I’m Sam Fields, first in my family to go to college. I posted a roommate thing on a mutual Facebook group and that’s why I’m rooming with him.” He jerked a thumb at Roberto and both of them snickered. “Also, my mom made me promise to write her every week, which is why I’m always sending letters.”

“Yup. I mean, I don’t think anyone will actually ask for that much info about you guys, but better safe than sorry.” Dani rocked from her heels to the balls of her feet, blowing air through her teeth. “Is that it? In terms of briefing, I mean.”

“What other information do you think they should have?” Scott asked, looking towards his protegee patiently. “Run it through in your head -- you know how to do it already, don’t sell yourself short.”

“Uh, do you both know your majors?”

“Business.”

“Visual art, minor in peace and conflict studies.”

“Right. We’ve gotten you inside a fair amount of classes across the board, but try to get a decent social circle, you know? Snoop for trouble.”

“Our specialty,” Roberto said, exchanging a grin with Sam. 

“If it was all about finding trouble, we’ll be back home within the week,” Sam added.

“Ha ha. Just keep your ear to the ground, so to speak. Have fun at college.”

“Thanks, Chief.”

Paige gave Sam a tight hug, Scott patted them both on the shoulders, and Dani gave them hugs too before they were out the door, wishing them both luck on their fake college journey -- and as soon as they were gone, Roberto sat down next to Sam on the couch with a groan. 

“Looking forward to some actual classes, Mr. Fields?”

“Not sure you can call it ‘looking forward,’” Sam replied, though some part of his brain was excited for this college trial run -- ‘first in his family,’ indeed. “It’ll be interesting for sure, though.”

“Yeah. Guess we’ll have to wait and see.”


	2. Syllabus

“So, you’re living in the apartments down on Cherry, right?”

“Yup.”

The girl who’d introduced herself as Lynn in class (short for Marilynn, she’d said) lounged across from him, taking up two chairs in the coffee shop booth they found themselves in. It had been just one week since he’d started classes, in one of which, after Lynn had gotten into an argument with the professor, he’d backed up her argument in class with the proper sources, thus securing her friendship, the wrath of the professor, and the attention of the class as a whole.

On an undercover mission, at that. Nice.

“Do you _really_ live there, though?”

“What?”

Her friend, a girl named Dayna, snorted. “Lynn and I are super into conspiracy theories, so sorry if this comes off as really weird, but we’re also like, eighty-four percent sure that you’re not actually a student.”

“Sorry?” Sam did his best to not sweat guiltily, tapping his pencil against his notebook. “What, am I a professor?”

“No, we think you might be a spy.” Lynn swung her feet back to the floor and leaned forward. “It would explain why you showed up in the middle of the semester, why you live with that Roberto dude-”

“Cause I feel like, if guys live together, it has to be three of them otherwise they’ll have this like, panic about their masculinity being challenged? I mean, I wouldn’t know, and I’m pretty sure this made more sense at the time, but you know.” Dayna leaned forward. “Are you a spy?”

“‘Course not. I -- uh-”

He wondered frantically about what to say. Any denial might spark more suspicion, digging deeper into their cover stories than they could afford. If either of them went looking….

“Uh, listen, if you could keep this between us…” He leaned forward and they copied him, eyes widening as they prepared to hear this secret. Sam thought of what Illyana had said once, that making it seem like you were trusting someone with a secret was more likely to make them trust you, and did his best not to feel guilty for the lie he was about to tell.

“Roberto and I -- it wasn’t a random thing. At all. I, uh, transferred here from a community college, and he and I…”

Oh, boy.

“We’re, uh, together.”

“Well, yeah, you guys share an apartment-”

“No, no.” God, how deep in this hole was he going to dig himself? “We’re _together_ together. Dating together. I was gonna transfer here after community college and he came up from Brazil to, uh, be with me.”

Their reactions were instantaneous and simultaneous. 

“Awwww!” 

“Oh my god, that’s the cutest. I feel really bad about thinking that you’re a spy now, sorry!”

“No, no, it’s okay. Just wanted to, uh, clear the air.”

Dayna bounced slightly in her seat, grinning wildly. “I can’t believe he came to a whole-ass _other country_ for you. Relationship goals, honestly.”

Sam didn’t have to fake the blush that spread to the tips of his ears, nor was he acting when he looked at the table and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aww. Thanks, Dayna -- and I can’t quite believe it either.”

“Thanks for telling us, too -- I mean, you didn’t have to.” Lynn was smiling too, suspicion totally dropped. “That’s a whole lotta trust to take, you know?”

“Well, you know. If you can’t trust your study buddy’s information, what can you trust?”

Dayna laughed. “Truer words, Sam. Truer words.”

“Can we come by and meet Roberto?” Lynn asked, scribbling a few lines down in her notebook from the textbook, as if she was actually doing work. “Just to make sure he’s treating our favorite study partner alright.”

“Yeah! Plus, I want to see what the apartments on Cherry are like -- cause I was thinking of moving off campus next year, you know, and people always say that Cherry apartments are pretty okay, if a little pricey.” Dayna grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, taking a sip of her coffee as Lynn and Sam got packed up. 

“I haven’t let him know that there are people coming by-”

“Then text him on the way. C’mon!”

~~~

“Hello?”

“Hey,” called Roberto. “How was class?”

“Alright. Have you met Lynn and Dayna yet?”

“I don’t believe I have.” Roberto twisted around and put on a charming smile. “Ladies.”

Something was wrong. Generally, the reaction to his charming smiles was anything from giggling to blushing, but this -- their exchanging of glances and sly smiles felt as if they knew something he didn’t, like he was the punchline of some unknown joke.

It wasn’t quite enough to make his smile slip, but he did start when Sam coughed. “Uh. Roberto, can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

“No, I mean-”

Sam grabbed his arm and gently pulled on him until Roberto followed him into his bedroom, raising his eyebrows as Sam closed the door behind him. 

“Okay, what?”

Sam turned to face him, grimacing, his shoulders tight, and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “So, Lynn and Dayna thought we were spies.”

“Sorry? Based on what?”

“I don’t know! But I kinda freaked out and so I told them the first thing that came to mind.”

“Which was?”

“That we’re not spies, and that we’re living together ‘cause…”

He trailed off, blushing and looking down.

“Told them that we were dating.”

“Ah.” Roberto’s mind went blank. “I see.”

“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve-”

“No, no, it’s okay. This is probably a better cover,” Roberto said automatically, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, we can just wing it til they leave and then we’ll figure out the rest of the story, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I was thinking.” Sam looked up again, still blushing but with a look in his eyes that was almost charming, in a bashful kind of way. “I-yeah.”

“Okay. So, come up with the backstory and stuff later, wing it now?”

“Yup.”

“Cool.” Roberto led them out of the room again, leaving his traditional smirk behind him in favor of a smile that hopefully seemed a little more open. “Lynn, Dayna, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Yup.”

“Sorry about that earlier,” he said graciously. “I didn’t realize that Sam had let you know about...it all.”

“No problem. You’re all good.”

The smaller, blonder one had left her backpack on the ground, her feet up on the futon (though she’d taken her shoes off, thank God) and a sketchbook in her lap, full of little doodles. She grinned mischievously at them.

“Sam only told us a little, like about how you came from another country so you could go to school together -- which, by the way, is _adorable_ \-- but it’s nice to meet you!” 

“He told you that?” Roberto didn’t have to fake the blush, and the adoring glance he shot Sam was only a little fake, all things considered. “I’m glad my reputation precedes me. Thanks for the good words, _querido_.”

He snickered at Sam’s suddenly flushed cheeks, turning back to the women, noting that Dayna’s sketchbook was now closed. “Are you guys gonna study here for a bit? Did you want me to leave?”

“Oh, no -- no, we just wanted to stop by. Check out the apartments, you know.” The taller one with impeccable eyeliner nudged the other (Lynn was the taller, Dayna the shorter, Roberto guessed) and Dayna got up with a grunt. 

“Yup. Thanks for studying with us, Sam -- see you in class?”

“Sure. You guys know the way back to campus, right?”

“Yup! Nice meeting you, Roberto!” Dayna shoved her sketchbook back into her bag and Roberto waved a slightly bemused farewell to them as the door closed behind Lynn.

Sam sat down on the futon with a _whoof_ and Roberto followed him, sighing. 

“Okay. Run this whole thing by me again?”


	3. Let's Hash It All Out

“So, we’ll need to pretend to be a couple?”

“Yeah.” 

Roberto frowned at his computer screen. “And there was no other option?”

“Do you have another explanation for why two guys who aren’t related live together?” 

Roberto rolled his eyes, even though Sam couldn’t see him. “Okay, fine, point made. But no one’ll ever believe us.”

“How hard can it be? Just, like, try to imitate some other couple, right?”

“I mean, if you wanna wear Emma’s outfit, then I can pretend to hate fun.”

Something hit Roberto in the back of the head and he laughed, turning around enough to grin at him. “Or we could just play it by ear. You know.”

“Huh. And when we get our asses busted for trying to infiltrate the super-secret and super-dangerous organization -- that _neither_ of us is any closer to finding, then I’ll know exactly where to place the blame.”

“Yup. On your shoulders, because you were the one who came up with this story.” Roberto flashed him a charming grin and turned back to his homework, his grin turning into a scowl. “However, I can be persuaded to change my mind if you know what the hell this professor is asking me to do.”

“Not a chance. How much are we playing this?” Sam asked from behind him, from where he was eating. “Like, how believable do we want to be?”

“As believable as possible, right? I mean, you have your two study buddies -- I have a couple guys in a few of my classes who seem cool -- they could be our ways around campus.” Roberto shut his laptop and rubbed his eyes, sighing. “I’ll just keep making you blush, which isn’t super hard, and I don’t care if you decide to do couple-y PDA shit if you don’t shove your tongue down my throat, et cetera.”

Sam scoffed. “First, that assumes I want my tongue down your throat. Second, that assumes _you’re_ not the more likely candidate for _that_.”

“Guilty as charged. But seriously. Just like the rest of our roommate agreement. Don’t leave all your shit on the floor, take turns with the dishes, yadda yadda yadda.”

“One problem though.”

“Shoot.” Roberto shoved his laptop to the side and flipped through his textbook absentmindedly, Sam’s fork clinking against the plate behind him.

“Dayna texted and said that if we’re okay with it, they wanna study here more often. It’s quieter here than in the study hall -- she says it’s better for concentration.”

“And…?”

“We both know that neither of us are gonna make our beds in the morning, but we live in a two bedroom apartment.” Sam hesitated, and Roberto could practically taste the awkwardness in the air. “And if a couple is living together, you kinda expect them to not sleep in separate rooms.”

“Mhm. I mean…” Roberto’s train of thought rolled off the tracks, the text on the screen blurring. “I’m -- I think -- you know -- uh-”

“We’re, ah, you know-”

“Yeah. I mean, people have guest bedrooms-”

“We’re both adults.”

“Don’t hog the covers.”

He heard Sam get up and put his plate carefully in the sink, Sam shoving him playfully when he came back. “Me, hog the covers? I seem to remember _someone_ monopolizing every blanket and bowl of popcorn _every_ single movie night without fail when we were kids.”

Roberto scooted over so that Sam could sit down, shivering slightly as Sam rested his arm on the back of the couch. “Hey, not my fault that I ran cold at nights.”

“Mmm.” They lapsed into a silence that was both comfortable and riddled with tension, the dynamic between them as it always was but teetering on the edge of something else, something more, something undefined that made Roberto flinch.

“You okay?”

“Hmm?” _Right, he’s closer now._ “I’m good. I just -- I thought I saw a mouse.”

“Ew.” Sam looked up from the book he’d grabbed from his bag, scowling at the wall. “Maybe put mousetraps on the list of things to get.”

“Mhm.” Roberto busied himself with his textbook, even as he found himself leaning against Sam, his best friend’s shoulder an excellent height for leaning, as he found. The words on the page refused to come into focus, and he read the same sentence three times before sighing and giving up. 

“What time is it?”

“Uhh. Around ten.”

“Cool. I’m going to bed.” Roberto got up with a grunt and Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Pretty early, especially for you.”

“Eh. Long day. Plus, I want dibs on the better side of the bed.” He chanced a wink and grinned at the tell-tale red high on Sam’s cheekbones before heading to the bathroom.

It was only when the door was locked that he breathed out, scrubbing a hand over his face. 

“What am I doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fairly short update this time, sorry!! i'll work on a longer one for next week -- and until then, kudos and comments are always appreciated!!


	4. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I want to say thank you so much to everyone who's commented! I don't usually respond to comments just because I never know what to say but I really do treasure all the things you've said.  
> Secondly, if you want to find me, I'm on tumblr @speedyshepherd -- feel free to drop in and say hi!

The first week passed without major incident. 

Sam learned that, if left unattended, Roberto could and would stay up until he was physically falling asleep on his desk and that he was not prone to early mornings. He also had a tendency to steal the blankets and curl up in a nest of pillows, meaning that Sam woke up more than a few times in the middle of the night to steal them back. 

Roberto, in turn, had adapted quickly to Sam’s little habits and quirks -- the fact that there always had to be at least two books on the bedside table, his habit of doing the dishes whenever he was stressed, his early morning jogs, the fact that he probably snored at night -- with grace and ease, fitting around it as if there had been a space kept just for him in Sam’s life.

The public stuff was going okay, Sam thought -- his hand got sweaty sometimes but Roberto always managed to joke about it, and so they remained, virtually unchanged for a week. It was just as they always were, just a little bit heavier on the physical contact. It was fine.

He’d been a fool to think it would last that long, he supposed. 

It was the middle of the night when he woke up, and at first, he wasn’t sure why he was awake at all. His pillow and blanket was where it was supposed to be, there were no bright lights or loud noises outside that would spell disaster, it was clearly not actually time for him to be up, and so he lay in silence for a few seconds, trying to puzzle out why he was conscious.

In the silence, Sam heard heavy breathing, as if someone had just run a marathon, and he turned to see Roberto, sitting up, curled over his knees, shaking like a leaf. 

He understood and recognized the symptoms immediately.

“‘Berto. Hey, Roberto. C’mere.”

He’d barely sat up and spread his arms when Roberto all but collapsed into him, breathing hard and clutching at Sam’s shirt as if he was trying to remember that he was here, alive, instead of whatever the nightmare had spelled out for him. 

Sam held him close, grimly wondering what it had been about this time -- the experiment? The Externals? The gladiator ring? -- shivering as Roberto’s breath trickled along his collarbone. “Shh, shh. ‘S okay. I got you. Whatever it was, you’re safe here, it’ll be okay. It’s okay.”

He felt tears stain his shoulder from where Roberto had buried his face, reality starting to reassert itself within his mind. Sam didn’t really know what he was saying anymore but he kept it up, a quiet stream of half-baked words until Roberto’s breath evened out. 

They stayed like that for a few minutes longer, the silence of their apartment and the sounds of the street outside dominating their space -- somehow, not one or the other’s space, but _theirs_ without question. 

Sam shifted, rubbing Roberto’s back. “C’mon. You need more sleep -- we both have class tomorrow.”

He felt Roberto nod mechanically and took that as assent, scooting and sliding until both of them were lying down again, Roberto’s head on Sam’s chest and Sam’s arm around Roberto’s waist. 

Maybe it was the instinct to protect his best friend. Maybe it was the fact that it was the middle of the night, sleep dampening the usual inhibitions. Maybe it was something else, something undefined -- whatever it was, it never occured to Sam to push Roberto away, and as tightly as Roberto still held on to him, it didn’t seem to occur to Roberto, either. 

“G’night, Bobby. You’re safe here, okay? I got you.”

Sam felt Roberto sigh, his hands loosening at last.

“Goodnight, Sam. Thank you.”

~~~

Sam heard cars zoom by their apartment, weirdly loud for so early in the morning, and yawned, picking sand out of his eyes. There was a weight on his chest, he noticed as if from far away, and his bicep was warmer than the rest of his arm, the arm that was currently being weighed down.

He awoke in a snap, remembering everything from last night even as his breath ruffled Roberto’s hair gently. True to form, Roberto appeared to be asleep still, thought Sam found himself nervously wondering how deep of a sleeper he was. Surely, deep enough that he would never know of this particularly awkward position?

The clock on the bedside table said that he didn’t have to be up for class just yet, but something about the whole… _situation_ made Sam nervous, almost uncomfortable. Was it the close proximity to his favorite person, or was it the chance that Roberto would wake up, push him away, shut him out?

He held his breath, gently pulling Roberto away from his body, whispering apologies when Roberto grunted in his sleep and tried to cling tighter to his chest (not because of any sentimental reason, he told himself -- just that he was the only other source of heat). It was sweet, though, he supposed, or it would be if not for the weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Finally, Roberto rolled over, grumbling something in Portuguese as he threw his arm over his pillow. Sam didn’t realize he was watching him with an almost-fond smile until his phone vibrated. 

He swung his legs out from under the covers, shivering when they hit the cold floor, glancing at the screen.

DAYNA: hey, u good to study after class today? library or ur place, whichever one u want

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. 

SAM: Library’s good. I think Roberto’s studying at the apartment. See you after class

DAYNA: :D

Behind him, Roberto mumbled something else unintelligibly, and Sam chuckled. 

“Yeah. You said it.”


	5. The Business of Feelings

Roberto leaned back in his chair and resisted the urge to put his feet up on his desk, the professor at the front of the classroom droning on at the same frequency used by wasps, probably. To the uninformed, it might’ve seemed as if he wasn’t paying attention -- and he wasn’t, not really, still trying to think about the mission and his other classes and whatever had happened last night. 

He’d woken up strangely early that morning, feeling peaceful and warm in a way that pretty much never happened, especially on the X-Men, and it had taken him a solid five minutes to figure out why. Sam had still been asleep at the time, for which he’d been grateful -- bad enough that he’d woken Sam in the middle of the night because of a stupid _dream_ (though his offered comfort was greatly appreciated), and then that -- him apparently asleep with his head on Sam’s chest, Sam’s arm resting on his back gently.

Roberto had been frozen for a bit before sleep called yet again and, by some miracle, he’d answered. By the time he’d woken up again for real this time, he’d been on the other side of the bed and Sam was gone.

Sam had two classes that day, and probably wouldn’t be back at the apartment until evening. 

Great, only all day to think about it and worry about ruining the best friendship he’d ever had.

He checked his watch. God, only ten more minutes and then he was free, free to explore the campus and try to find the suspicious activity they were there for, or stress more about last night/this morning. Whichever he chose. 

It felt like an eternity, though not so much as math class used to (small miracles, he supposed). And by the time the professor wished them a good day, he was already packed up and halfway to the door. 

To his surprise, as he made his way to the elevators, someone else was keeping pace with him, scratched glasses and creased forehead. One of the other people in his classes, someone who sat closer to the front. 

“Do you know what’s going on in that class?” he asked as the elevator doors opened to admit them, and Roberto scoffed. 

“I haven’t been really paying attention, to be honest. You?”

“Sort of. I mean, I’d like to believe I know what’s going on.” He smiled ruefully and straightened his glasses, peering at Roberto. “I’m Tad, by the way.”

“Roberto.” They shook hands, the elevator shaking on its way down, and Roberto grinned. “Where you headed?”

“To the dining hall. You?”

“Nowhere in particular. Mind if I join you? I mean, I’d love to hear what you thought on the parts of the lecture I did hear.”

“Which parts did you hear?”

“Uhhh…”

“Nah, it’s fine. Honestly, I was zoned out for pretty much the entire class, so I guess I’ll just read the textbook chapter later.” Tad rolled his eyes. “Love that I’m paying for this.”

Roberto laughed awkwardly. “Yeah.”

The dining hall was less crowded than Roberto expected it to be, which made it a snap to get food and then sit down at the table Tad led him to, already occupied by a pair of others -- a girl in a wheelchair and a boy with an open sketchbook, both of them looking up with a smile as Tad and Roberto approached them.

“Hey, guys, this is Roberto. Roberto, this is Naomi and Ben.”

“Hey!” The girl in the wheelchair -- Naomi, he guessed -- was the first to smile and extend her hand. “Nice to meet you! Are you a business major, too?”

“Yup. Sorry.”

She laughed. “Some crimes can never be forgiven -- unless you can teach me how to knit?”

“No, sorry.” 

“Damn.”

“She’s been looking for someone to teach her,” said Ben, shaking hands with Roberto. “I keep saying she should just go on YouTube-”

“I _can’t_. YouTube doesn’t make sense to me and I don’t know why!” Naomi threw her hands up, nearly dislodging her bowl of fruit before Roberto caught it and steadied it. “Oh, thank you.”

“No problem.”

“You’re new, right?” Ben asked. “I mean, not like freshmen-new, but like -- I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Big campus, though. But yeah, I just transferred here.”

“Ooo! From where?”

“Brazil.”

“Oh, that’s really cool. Enjoying your time here so far?” Ben asked.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s a little cold for me, but you know.” Roberto shrugged, forcing the food down his throat ( _I will never complain about Remy’s cooking again,_ he swore to himself). “It’s all good.”

“What made you choose here?” Tad raised his eyebrows at Roberto and Roberto chewed thoughtfully, trying to remember the story Sam had fabricated. 

_Hopefully, they’re all okay with...everything._

_And if not?_ he asked himself, willing his palms dry. _If they do have a problem?_

Something caught his eye, a little button pin on Ben’s backpack -- a little rainbow pin. Roberto didn’t really know why, but even the sight of the tiny rainbow filled him with -- not confidence, exactly. Hope?

“Oh, I moved up ‘cause I-uh, my boyfriend transferred here from community college and I wanted to be near him.”

_That better be the same story Sam told._

“Oh, that’s so cute,” Naomi gushed. “He’s lucky to have you!” 

“I know.” Roberto flashed a smile and the rest of the table laughed.

“Who’s your boyfriend, if you don’t mind my asking?” Ben said, fidgeting with his pencil (the sketch was a landscape, Roberto noticed, a rolling field and a mountain in the distance). 

“Sam Fields -- he’s an art major.”

Ben rolled the name around in his head for a couple seconds before his face lit up. “Oh, he’s like, tall, blond, white guy, right?”

“You just described like, a hundred people here,” Tad pointed out, and Roberto laughed.

“He is, but also, that’s totally fair.”

The others laughed and Roberto laughed with them, some internal equilibrium adjusting to his environment. His worries about that morning disappeared, Tad and Ben striking up a specific conversation about a class they were both in as Roberto tried to focus on his food.

“What are you doing after lunch?” Naomi asked, stacking the empty dishes of the table, and Roberto shrugged, conscious of how his mouth was full.

“I dunno. Probably gonna go back to my apartment. Why?”

“I was gonna go study at the library and I don’t want to study alone, except I only know this table and the other two have a class in like, an hour.” She shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. “I know I just met you, and you don’t have to, but-” 

“No, no. I’m not doing anything else, and I’d be glad to.” He smiled at her and she grinned back, though it quickly turned to a look of surprise as Tad grabbed her stack of dishes. “Hey! Tad, I can take my own dishes back, thanks!” 

“It’s fine, I got it. Anyone else have stuff to take back?”

He took a few more empty plates and headed off, carefully balancing the plates, and Ben laughed. 

“I bet he’s gonna drop one.”

“Don’t jinx it!”

~~~

“So, my mom is Jewish and my dad is Japanese, and my name was like, the only one they could agree on,” Naomi said, rolling along the sidewalk. “Easy for both sets of grandparents to pronounce, so it’s a win-win. What about you?”

“Uh, I don’t really know how my parents chose my name, to be honest.” Roberto’s eyebrows knitted together as he tried to think of any random tidbits either of his parents had told him about his name. “It probably just, like, rolled off the tongue, you know? No particular reason.”

“Gotcha. It does work, though, so that’s really good.” 

Roberto slipped past her to hold the door and she smiled. “Oh, thank you. You don’t need to hold the door, though, you know. They all have those automatic open buttons.”

“I know. I just like holding the door.”

“Were you that kid who was always, like, stuck at the doorway of your highschool cause you felt bad about dropping it on anyone?” she teased, and Roberto laughed. 

“Not really, honestly. I went to a pretty small high school, so there were only so many people to hold the door for.”

“That must be nice,” Naomi said wistfully, scanning the library. “My high school was _huge_ \-- no use dwelling on it, though.”

“Mhm.” Roberto’s heart jumped when he spotted a familiar head of blond hair, sitting not too far away at a desk with the girls he’d met last week -- L something, and her friend. “Hey, where did you want to sit?”

“Who were you looking at?” Naomi followed his gaze and her eyes grew wide. “Oh! Is that your boyfriend?”

“Yes, but-” Roberto didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence -- she was already rolling away as soon as he’d confirmed, and he was left with no choice but to jog after her. _Why is she so much faster than Xavier used to be?_

“Hi! You’re Sam, right? I’m Naomi, I met Roberto like, half an hour ago and I’ve decided that we’re friends.” She shook his hand cheerfully and to Sam’s credit, he got over his surprise quickly.

“Nice to meet you, Naomi.” He smiled and she gave Roberto a not-so-subtle thumbs up. 

“Also, weird question, but do you know how to knit?”

“Yeah. My mom taught me. Why?”

“Yes!”

A few people looked up from neighboring tables in annoyance and she made an apologetic face. “Sorry!”

Roberto snickered, resting his elbows on Sam’s shoulders and draping his arms across his chest. _For the mission,_ he thought, _for the mission._ “How’s your studying going?”

“Eh. Alright.” It seemed so natural for Sam to lean back into Roberto’s chest and smile at him, and Roberto almost felt envious for how Sam seemed to act so flawlessly. “ _I_ think it’s going alright, I mean.”

“I still don’t get what _diegetic_ means,” Dayna chimed in, even as Lynn moved a chair to make room for Naomi’s wheelchair.

“It means music that the characters and the audience can hear,” Sam patiently explained, looking away from Roberto. He laughed softly when Roberto rested his chin on the top of his head, one hand reaching for Roberto’s. 

“Like that one AC/DC song in that really bad Iron Man biopic,” Lynn said, and Naomi laughed. 

“That _exists?_ ”

The three of them immediately started talking about the really bad Iron Man biopic, Lynn pulling up clips on YouTube, and Roberto sighed. 

“Sorry about this morning,” he whispered, and Sam squeezed his hand.

“Hey. You don’t ever have to be sorry for that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!! i love reading comments, they're what keep me writing :) again, you can always find me on Tumblr @speedyshepherd!


	6. One Step Trouble (Just Add Water)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, a shoutout to LordKnightAlex and Jaded_Wordsmith for leaving multiple (!!!!) comments, and to @souldagger and @samberto on tumblr for yelling with me -- I do love and treasure all comments, but multiple comments let me know that I'm not just shouting into the void. Thank you all so much!!  
> Secondly, finals week for me is right around the corner, and while I'll try to get the next chapter out on time, it's very much a game of wait and see.  
> Thirdly, as always, come yell with me on Tumblr @speedyshepherd! Even if you want to just drop a fic idea in my askbox, any and all interaction (but especially comments here tbh) is welcome and appreciated!

A door slammed a floor above them but Sam didn’t notice, eyes unfocused as he started the paragraph again, cracking his neck. It felt as if he’d been trying for hours to do the required reading for class, and though they were now three weeks in, he’d found nothing relating to the mission. 

Which was to be expected, but he couldn’t quash the sting of disappointment. Not that he was looking for trouble, but that he’d expected it to have found them by now. 

The door’s lock clicked and Sam looked up just in time to see Roberto slump through the door, carding a hand through his hair and sighing. He looked exactly as tired as Sam felt, but just a little bit of Sam’s tiredness fell away when Roberto looked at him and smiled.

“Hey. Homework?”

“Unfortunately.” Sam tossed his textbook across the couch and stood up, stretching with a grunt and several popping muscles. “Ow. How was class?”

“Not super classy. What did you have for dinner?”

“Got takeout with Lynn and Dayna. Have you not eaten yet?”

Roberto grimaced and shook his hand in a so-so movement. “I ate breakfast.”

Sam sighed, squeezing past him into the kitchen. “Well, we ate all the takeout-”

“Damn.”

“-and there’s no way you’re eating cereal for dinner again-”

“Hey, it was _one_ time.” Roberto draped his coat across a chair and dropped his bag next to it, and in the time it took Sam to retrieve a pot from the cupboard, he’d moved back to the kitchen, leaning against the counter. “What are you doing?”

“Making soup. I need a break and you need to eat. And I don’t think you can cook.”

“Guilty as charged.” Roberto laughed a little bit and Sam noticed he was standing closer than he ordinarily would have, the boyfriend act seeping into their lives away from other people, bit by bit. “What kind of soup? Not that I would ever say no to what you cook, just curious.”

“Chicken noodle, if I can find yesterday’s leftovers.” 

“Top shelf?”

“Ah, thank you.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, Sam humming to himself as he chopped celery and carrots and chicken, tossing them into the pot along with the bone broth he’d bought just a few days ago. _Thank God for sales and impulse buys._

“Want me to grab the noodles for you?”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.”

“I don’t know how to do much, but I do know how to boil pasta water.”

“Mhm. Do you mind if I play music?” Sam asked, his shoulders tensing. Some emotion was boiling right below the surface of this interaction, and he wasn’t sure what it was -- but it made him uncomfortable.

“Only if you dance with me.” Roberto kicked off his shoes and slid on the smooth wood floor of the kitchen, grinning, and Sam shook his head, laughing. 

“You and your dancing.” The unidentified emotion shoved its way into Sam’s chest, sitting just below his sternum, and he swallowed, trying to force it down to no avail.

“Yeah. It’s good -- good exercise. Good for you.”

The speaker in the corner blipped as Roberto’s phone connected, one of Sam’s playlists spinning on his screen and playing. Roberto grabbed his hand and pulled him into a dance.

The kitchen filled with the warm smell of food, the pasta water bubbling and the song weaving through his muscles, the stress of homework falling away in the face of sliding around the wood floor, clumsily dancing with his favorite person in the world. The universe, even. Both of them gave the stove a healthy amount of distance, but in such a small space, that meant that Roberto’s sweaty hands were in Sam’s, and when Roberto laughed breathlessly and leaned forward, he leaned into Sam’s chest.

His lungs tightened and at the proximity, the mass below his sternum stirred. 

“Oh, shit, the pasta.” Roberto turned away and Sam breathed out slowly, watching Roberto tip the pasta into the boiling water. “How much soup are we making?”

“Am _I_ making, you mean?” he responded reflexively, though his brain continued to hover on the way Roberto’s hand had felt in his. “All of it, given how much you just dumped in.”

“Sorry.” Roberto turned and gave him a shining smile that was distinctly _not_ apologetic and the emotion stirred again, forcing its way into his throat. 

“I’m gonna dump my stuff in the room, if that’s alright,” Roberto said, oblivious to Sam’s internal emotion-driven suffocation. “Be right back.”

“Take your time,” Sam replied, and as soon as Roberto was gone he stepped forward to the stove and stared at his chicken noodle soup (sans noodles, for now) as if it held the answers deep in its brothy depths. 

No answers were forthcoming, only a piece of chicken. 

The timer on Sam’s phone went off and he drained the pasta, still thinking hard about the weird tightness in his chest and throat. It hadn’t been like this before, so what had changed? Not Roberto -- had he changed? Was the situation changing him in some undefined, undetermined way?

He jumped when one of the cabinets opened, and Roberto raised his eyebrows, looking at him with worry. “Just getting some bowls. You good?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Roberto didn’t press it and Sam didn’t offer, instead stirring the pasta into the broth until it looked like a sort-of approximation of his mother’s soup, dividing most of it into two bowls and turning the stove off. “You know, if my momma saw this-”

“She’d be proud of you for making it?”

“I mean, maybe, but more likely she’d be horrified at what _else_ we’re eating.” 

Roberto laughed in that wonderful way of his and Sam smiled, pushing carrots around his bowl. The stoppage in his throat made it hard to swallow but he tried anyways, wincing as he burned his tongue. It was silent for a few seconds as both of them focused on how to eat with maximum speed and minimal burns, and Sam willed the emotion away as best he could.

“Soup’s really good, Sam,” Roberto said softly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Sam smiled and finally, finally, the emotion hit his brain and he realized what it might be.

_Oh, no._

_Oh, shit._


	7. Hearts and Karts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Bit of a weird update here, but first, a few orders of business:  
> 1\. there are five comments on the last chapter and i know because i've been rereading them since you've posted them. thank you all so so much!! i can't express how much i appreciate you and your comments -- they're what keeps me going <3  
> 2\. please look at this wonderful piece of art @souldagger on tumblr made of the last chapter!!! isn't it gorgeous! i love it SO much: [ COOL ART! ](https://souldagger.tumblr.com/post/612441474443919360/samberto-crumbs-inspired-by-speedyshepherds%22)  
> 3\. COVID-19 shut down my college, hence why the update didn't come last thursday (no access to a computer!) but now that i don't have to attend classes in person, i will hopefully have more free time on my hands which means more fic :) check back not only here every week but also to my account, as i clean up and post a bunch of stuff all at once!! remember to wash your hands and stay safe -- wishing safety and joy to you and your families in this time!! again, remember that if you have any thoughts either about this or about something else you'd like to see, hit me up on Tumblr @speedyshepherd!

“No, no no no no no!”

Tad cackled from his place on the couch, his avatar zooming past Naomi to snag first place, and Ben shrugged sympathetically from the floor. “Sorry, Wheels. When life gives you a blue shell…”

Lynn cheered from the other side of the couch, crammed in between the arm and Dayna, the woebegone couch groaning under them as all of them made exaggerated steering movements as if it would help them turn more at all. “You’re fine! It’s only the second lap!”

Naomi groused but leaned forward slightly in her chair, laser-focused on the screen, and Sam laughed, prompting Roberto to look up from his homework. 

Sam was squeezed between Tad and the arm of the couch, sunlight peeking between the curtains and shining on his hair like a halo. The effect was mesmerizing and absolutely the only reason Roberto found his eyes drifting towards him rather than the flashing screen just beyond him, the more obvious target.

The homework before him was becoming less and less interesting, and as the trumpets played at the end of the round he abandoned it entirely, wandering over to perch on the arm of the couch.

“D’you want one of us to move?” Tad asked, though he didn’t take his eyes off the ready screen, and Roberto shrugged, struggling to keep his balance. 

“S’fine.”

“You sure?” Sam hit pause and looked up at him, blue eyes shining even as the others groaned and relaxed, the anticipation of the next round stifled for just a second. Roberto, for his part, shrugged again and nearly fell, Sam catching him at the last minute with a laugh. “C’mere.”

Sam was really taking to this whole acting as a couple thing, Roberto thought, even as he found himself sitting half on the couch and half on Sam’s lap, Sam’s arms around him so he could continue playing. His breath ruffled Roberto’s hair and Roberto thought of the times (times, plural, now) he’d woken up, feeling safe and warm only to discover that sometime during the night the space between them had closed.

It was nice, actually. This sort of close-physical-contact thing. 

Sam hit play and the game started up again, the mood shifting instantly until all four players were focused on the screen. Roberto felt Sam’s shoulders tense as he leaned forward, and it seemed only natural to relax into him and watch the race, though it was partially obscured by Sam’s jaw.

Sam smelled nice, Roberto noticed as if from far away. Like pears and fresh baked bread (undoubtedly from the rolls he’d made earlier, during a bout of finals anxiety). 

“Vroom vroom, bitches!” Naomi crowed from somewhere off to the side, though her victory was short-lived as Sam gunned his motor and swerved, cutting her off in a truly spectacular move that had the three non-players cheering him on. Roberto felt rather than heard Sam’s laugh in response, starting deep in his chest and radiating warmth through Roberto’s torso. 

“Sorry not sorry.”

“I _will_ end you, _Daisy_.”

Almost as if on cue, Daisy struck a pose onscreen, cheering for an imaginary audience. “Yeehaw!”

“Is that why you main Daisy? 'Cause of the little 'yeehaw'?” Roberto murmured so only Sam could hear, and Sam chuckled again. 

“Maybe so.”

He kept his healthy lead, much to the others frustration -- the race finished quickly and he sat back, relaxing again, and Roberto hummed contentedly and snuggled into his chest.

“I’m cold,” he said by way of explanation when Lynn looked at him with raised eyebrows and a teasing look on her face. “He’s like a furnace.”

“Hey, Roberto, can you do me a favor?” Naomi asked as the trumpets for the next race sounded, and Roberto shifted, hoping the favor wouldn’t involve getting up.

“Hmm?”

“Distract Sam for this next race?”

“Yeah, he’s won the past two, and he’ll have a perfect game if something doesn’t happen soon,” Ben chimed in, and Sam groaned.

“That’s _cheating_. Y’all just hate to lose.”

“Yeah, and?”

“I don’t think it’s cheating,” Roberto hummed, tracing Sam’s jawline with one finger, and noted with satisfaction that Sam blushed, though his on-screen course remained fairly consistent if the mutters of the others were anything to go by.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.” 

Sam’s hair was soft, cropped shorter at the base of his neck, and Sam shivered when Roberto’s fingers grazed the top of his spine.

“You’re good,” he breathed. “Selling the act, are we?”

“I try.” 

Sam’s skin was smooth and rough with stubble by turns, and Roberto found himself suddenly fascinated by him -- by _this_. He’d never be this close after this mission again, he supposed -- even though a tiny part of his brain would like to.

He ran his fingers through the short hair at the back of Sam’s head and felt a shudder run through his entire body, jolting Roberto slightly, and onscreen, Daisy shrieked as she drove off a cliff. Naomi took the lead, cacking manically.

“Thanks.”

“That was definitely cheating,” Sam said louder, meant for more than just Roberto’s ears, and the others laughed. “And for _you_ -”

The race ended and Sam hugged him tightly, rocking back and forth slightly. “Don’t do that again,” he growled jokingly, and Roberto laughed into his shoulder, valiantly ignoring the memory of Sam’s neck under his fingertips.

“No promises. But I consider my favor fulfilled.”

“Cheers!” Naomi tipped her water bottle at him and laughed. “One win’s good enough for me, thanks. Plus, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with Sam.”

“Don’t make him sleep on the couch, it’s Naomi’s fault,” Tad added, and Naomi smacked his shoulder, her laugh traveling around the little group like an idea.

The evening faded a little after that. Roberto dozed, slipping in and out of a fugue-like state, the conversation swirling on around him. Sam noticed -- of course he did -- but didn’t say anything until he handed the controller off to Lynn (or maybe it was Dayna -- Roberto was too tired to try and tell the difference between goth Lynn and coincidentally-wearing-black Dayna).

“Sleepy?”

“Mhm.”

Sam shifted. “Yeah, cause you had an earlier class today, huh. Want to go to bed?”

“Not yet,” Roberto found himself saying to his own surprise. “‘M okay.”

“Okay. Let me know if you want me to move or something, okay?”

“Mmm.”

At some point, the others left, taking their loud laughter with them, and Roberto heard Sam sigh fondly from what felt like very far away. He was too tired to act like he was awake, but it still came as a mild surprise as he felt himself being lifted and carried to the other room before being placed gently on the bed.

It was a fairly small gesture (once he got over the fact that Sam was apparently strong enough to pick up and carry him with surprisingly little effort), but it was touching in a way that might’ve made Roberto mildly emotional if he’d been more awake. As it was, the most he could muster was rolling over and gently forcing his way into Sam’s arms again, leaning into his chest (the bed was cold but Sam was warm, and one of those was greatly preferable to the other).

He heard Sam laugh, and it made him smile. 

“G’night, ‘Berto. Sleep well.”


	8. Sword and Key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all so much for your comments on the last chapter! weekly updates will continue!

Sam heard Roberto shuffle across the floor, bare feet squeaking against the wood, but looked up only when Roberto said, “Huh. Letter from Dani.”

Sam put his textbook and computer aside, stiffening slightly when Roberto tossed the rest of the mail to the other side of the couch and curled up against him, examining the envelope before handing it to Sam. “Think we’re getting pulled out??

“Hmm. Probably not, but I guess something’s happening?” Sam ripped open the letter and focused on the words, trying valiantly to ignore the feeling of Roberto’s head on his shoulder. He could practically see Dani writing the letter, reconsidering word choices and scratching things out, more self-conscious in writing than she was in speaking.

“Ooo. So the secret organization has a _name_ now.” Roberto seemed totally unconcerned with the whole thing, shifting against Sam to better read the letter. “Wonderful.”

“What kinda name is Gladium Clavem?” Sam murmured, scanning the letter again, and his breath hitch as Roberto relaxed, yawning.

“Means ‘sword and key,’ I think. Probably some fancy-ass secret society, like a wannabe Hellfire Club.”

“Sounds like it.”

“I mean, only secret societies are pretentious enough to have their names in Latin.”

“Is that from personal experience?” Sam teased gently and Roberto elbowed him, though without any real force behind it.

“Shut _up. I_ was never in any secret societies, thank you very much.”

“Sure you’re not forgetting something?”

Roberto frowned, sitting up and turning until he met Sam’s eyes. “What?”

“Well, technically, aren’t the New Mutants a secret society?”

He laughed and threw a blanket at Sam, but the realization hit home and he froze. “Wait, it kinda was.”

“Right?”

The doorbell rang and they both jumped, Sam reflexively shoving the letter behind the couch cushions as Roberto slid off the couch and went to go peek through the peephole, standing on his toes before opening the door.

“Hi, Roberto. Sorry to butt in at a weird hour-”

“No, it’s okay. Dayna?”

She sniffed and nodded, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, and Sam noticed with concern the tear tracks down her cheeks and the smeared makeup on the back of her hand (presumably from when she’d wiped her face before -- Sam made a mental note to ask Paige about waterproof makeup brands to recommend). 

“Hey, Dayna. C’mon, sit down-” Sam pulled out a chair at the table and sat down next to her, Roberto on her other side as she breathed slowly. 

“Thanks. Sorry. I’m just-” She sniffed again. “I’m -- can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How -- how did you guys, you know, meet? Get together? If you don’t wanna answer, that’s okay, but-”

“Can I ask why you want to know?” Roberto asked, and Sam could practically see the gears spinning in his head as he tried to remember the backstory they’d cooked up. “You or Lynn looking for a boyfriend or something?”

She groaned and dropped her head to the table and the truth hit Sam like a sledgehammer. “Is it Lynn? You like Lynn?”

Dayna groaned again and Roberto put his elbows up on the table, cushioning his chin with his hands. “In that case, we’re happy to help. I met him because he knocked me over-”

“Sweetheart, that is _not_ what happened.” Immediately after the words left his mouth, Sam realized what he’d said and blushed -- _hope he doesn’t notice what I called him._

“Well, that’s what _I_ remember. Anyways, we went to the same program here in the States, but then I moved back to Brazil, so we started talking online.”

“He came to visit a few times,” Sam broke in, unwilling to let the story continue without input. “One trip, I asked him out-”

“No, _I_ asked _him_ out-”

“That’s not what happened-”

“That’s _absolutely_ what happened, don’t let him tell you otherwise-”

Roberto offered Dayna a tissue and she gratefully accepted, blowing her nose, but when the tissue came away from her face she was smiling. “I know I’ve already said this, but you guys are _so_ cute.”

“Hell yeah. Anyways, _I_ asked him out, and when I heard he was applying to this college I figured I may as well, you know?” Roberto leaned back in his chair with a grin, the same grin Sam found that he was in love with, much to his own internal struggle. 

On the one hand, of course he was in love with Roberto. Who wouldn’t be?

On the other hand, years of friendship stood on the line, and if he risked it all and told him, Sam could very well lose the best friend he’d ever had. 

“But how did you, like, do it?” Dayna asked, and then covered her face. “Oh, God, that sounded so wrong. I mean-”

Roberto snickered like a five year old and Sam did his best to bite back his own laughter, even as he put a reassuring hand on Dayna’s wrist. “You mean, ‘how did he-slash-I, depending on whose version you believe, work up the courage? Or when the question happened?”

“Yeah. I mean, everything.”

Sam hummed as he tried to look like he was thinking, scraping together a scenario from scraps in his head. Technically, nothing Roberto had said was _wrong,_ per se, just with heavy details omission -- for instance, Roberto had neglected to mention that at the time of their meeting, Sam had slammed into him with the full intention of putting him out of order for his boss.

No excuse, but still.

“It was...it was a pretty normal day, right?” He looked at Roberto and a blush crept up his cheeks and into the tops of his ears, even as Roberto played along with a grin. 

“It was normal for _you_. I was so nervous I forgot to eat breakfast.”

Sam laughed. “I think I remember that. Your stomach was growling all day.”

Dayna snickered and Roberto covered his face in mock embarrassment. “You heard that?”

“I never told you before?”

“No! Anyways, there was a spot near the school where we’d met, right by the lake.”

“The docks,” Sam murmured, and remembered with a shock the exact day Roberto referenced. 

_I was thinking it was a nice day to _decide_ what we should become._

Roberto pointed finger guns at Sam with a smirk. “The docks. Anyways, _I_ asked him out, and the rest is history, as it were.”

“Just tell the truth, speak from your heart, as cheesy as it sounds,” Sam said gently, patting her hand. “Even if she doesn’t reciprocate, it’ll feel better once it’s off your chest.”

_I’m such a hypocrite._

“Okay. Okay, yeah. Yeah. Not -- not now, thought.” Dayna took a shaky breath. “Speaking of ‘not now,’ Lynn and I are having a New Year’s Eve party -- wanna come?”

“Of course!”

“Are you gonna be telling Lynn before New Year’s?” Sam asked cautiously. “‘Cause I don’t know-”

“I think…” Dayna hesitated. “I think I’m gonna tell her before the party, so I can either leave or like, drink wine. Y’know?”

Roberto cackled. “Solid plan. And you know we’ll be there to back you up.”

“Yeah. I know -- and thanks, guys.”

“No problem.”

“Did you want to crash here for the night?” Sam found himself offering. “We have a spare room.”

“I -- I mean, actually, maybe -- hang on.” Her phone vibrated and she ducked away, her conversation too quiet to hear (not that Sam was trying, of course). When she came back, it was with a blush in her cheeks and a spring in her steps.

“Who was that?” Sam asked, and she smiled.

“It was Lynn. She heard that I’d run off and she -- she said she was worried.” Dayna toyed with her phone, pulling at the case, and Sam did his best to smile encouragingly. 

“She cares about you, Dayna, you know she does! Trust us -- even if it doesn’t go the way you want it to, at least it’ll be out in the open.”

“‘Kay. Thanks again, Sam, Roberto. I think I’m gonna head back to my dorm for now, but thanks for the offer.”

“No problem. Do you want one of us to walk you back?”

“Nah, I’m okay. I have a ride. Thanks, though.”

“Text me when you get back to your dorm safe, though,” Sam said anxiously and she smiled, clearly humoring him.

“Sure thing. Take care.”

“Have a good night!”

The door closed behind her and Sam sighed, leaning his forehead against the wood and staring at his socked feet. _What a hypocrite you are, Sam Guthrie. Telling her to confess when you can’t even get up the nerves to do it yourself._

“Penny for your thoughts, Sam?” Roberto was playing a little game on his phone, from the looks of it, and Sam looked over and smiled. Roberto didn’t notice, how engrossed (and frustrated) he was, but everything about him fit perfectly into Sam’s world.

“Just thinking about class.”

“Ew. Did Dani’s letter say if we were gonna stick around for next semester?”

“I think so.” Sam retrieved the letter from its makeshift hiding place and smoothed it out on the table. “Yeah. No conclusive evidence so they’re gonna keep us here.”

“Damn. Guess I’m gonna have to actually do finals. Can you imagine if they never find anything?” Roberto jostled Sam’s elbow and laughed. “Keep us here ‘til we graduate for real.”

Sam laughed too, but his heart wasn’t all in it. Something was lodged between them, and though he knew what it was, moving it made him nervous -- a change in the landscape of their relationship he wasn’t sure he’d ever be prepared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, find me on Tumblr @speedyshepherd!!  
> and as a disclaimer, "gladium clavem" actually means "sword key", but I couldn't remember the suffix for "and" and didn't want to add "et" cause that ruins the flow. Also, did you know that Roberto canonically speaks Latin?


	9. Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoof! I'm so sorry for the late update -- quarantine is really wreaking havoc on my inner clock, along with no new releases on Wednesday. The next chapter will mark the official halfway point, and so I'd like to thank you all once again for coming on this fantastic adventure!! I've learned a lot about writing since starting this and I hope you're having as much fun reading as I am writing! <3!!

“So, I’m thinking tonight should be sci-fi.”

Roberto rolled his eyes. “You always think tonight should be sci-fi.”

“...and?” Sam gave him a bashful grin that didn’t quite pass for either guilt or deference to Roberto’s taste in movies, and Roberto found that he couldn’t say no. He closed his laptop and set it on the coffee table, giving Dani’s letter one more look-over.

“You know, Sam…”

“Hmm?”

“It occurs to me that we haven’t done much actual looking, you know?”

Sam shrugged, fidgeting with the pages of his notebook. “I dunno about that. I mean, we both looked at a bunch of clubs in the beginning of the year, it’s just that none of them fit. I wonder if anything would fit retroactively, now that we know -- and did you want popcorn for the movie?”

“Yeah -- no, it’s alright,” Roberto said as Sam moved to get up. “I’ll get it. What do you mean about fitting retroactively?”

“Like how hindsight is twenty-twenty. I wonder if we might’ve had clues without ever realizing it.”

The microwave hummed and Roberto hummed along, barely thinking about it as occupied as he was with everything else. “I can’t think of anything off the top of my head -- you? Any off-handed comments from professors, any weird people with weird vibes, overheard conversations -- that’s what you’re referencing, right?”

“In a way.” They both jumped at the first pop, Sam scratching the back of his head in embarrassment (though his reaction was perfectly valid in Roberto’s book; after all, in the X-Men, those reflexes had served them both well). He was content to let the popping fill the silence as both men thought about it, dredging up memories and encounters they thought they would never need again until the microwave beeped and shook Roberto out of his stupor.

“Anything in any of your classes, maybe?” Sam ventured, and the silence broke, giving way to their usual dynamic. 

Roberto snorted, shaking the popcorn into a bowl and wincing as the hot bag burned his fingers. “Nah. Can’t believe I’m saying this, though -- and don’t tell Scott or Dani -- but there’s some useful info in these classes. Kinda glad I’m in them, ‘specially the business ones.”

Sam snorted from where he sat on the couch, automatically lifting his arm so Roberto could lean against him, stealing a piece of popcorn. “Business. Gross.”

“Do my ears deceive me, or are you starting to mimic the feelings and attitudes of the other students, o art major?” Roberto teased, and Sam laughed, his shoulder shaking against Roberto’s head. 

“Only a little bit.”

The situation felt so damn _natural_ , them sitting too close together, Sam lightly rebuking him for taking enormous handfuls of popcorn before the movie even properly started, curled around each other even though there was no one there to perform for. For just a second, it felt as if the mission wasn’t there, like they really were just themselves at college with each other for the hell of it, and Roberto found himself clinging desperately to the illusion (though whether the illusion of normality or the illusion of the relationship, he could not tell). 

“Have you ever read _2001: A Space Odyssey_?” Sam asked, but before Roberto could give him his “no,” Sam’s phone buzzed.

“Facetime from Dayna,” he murmured, and Roberto snuggled closer to Sam to be in the frame of the call. 

“Hey, Dayna!”

The phone shook on the other end as she grinned, no longer crying as she had been just a few nights ago, when she’d come by their apartment. “Hi, guys! I just wanted to let you know the details on Lynn’s New Year’s Eve party -- I know finals haven’t even happened yet-”

“I forgot about finals,” Roberto whispered so only Sam could hear, and got a quiet chuckle for his trouble.

“-but you know, any excuse to party, right? I have a couple other friends and friends of friends coming, but don’t worry, I’ve already met them all and, y’know, checked to see if they were cool and stuff.” The lighting behind her head changed as she moved from one room into the next, the image freezing up and becoming pixelated, though the audio continued steadily. “So you guys don’t need to worry about the whole New Year’s Eve kiss tradition, you know! And, y’know, hopefully…”

“Thanks for checking,” Sam offered, even as Roberto found himself frozen by her words. “‘S nice of you -- and good luck with the other thing!”

“Thanks so much! Hope to see you guys there!” She gave them a little wave and the call ended, leaving Sam, Roberto, their sci-fi movie, and their thoughts alone.

New Year’s Eve. Of course, Roberto had completely forgotten about that particular aspect -- the whole “kiss someone at midnight” thing. _Where had that even come from?_

“The New Year’s Eve….tradition,” Roberto ventured, carefully not looking at Sam. “If you’re uncomfortable, we could always stage a very public breakup-”

“And ruin the cover for next semester?” Sam shifted and Roberto wished he could move, stuck in his place as he was. “I’m good if you are -- besides, it’s just an act, right? Just for the mission?”

“Sure, of course.” Roberto cleared his throat. “Play the movie, will you? Popcorn’s getting cold.”

He heard Sam chuckle again, but to his ears it sounded stifled, breathless. Roberto wished he could add a snarky spin to it -- _just one kiss unless you ask for more_ \-- but at the moment, jokes seemed beyond him. Something had become very, very real over the course of this extremely fake mission and cover, and whatever it was, Roberto wasn’t sure he’d like it at all once he found out what it was.


	10. New Year, New Me!

“I don’t like it.”

Roberto snorted from where he leaned against the wall. “No surprises there.”

“I’m just saying.” Dani shifted her weight to her other leg, staring off into space as she puzzled through her options in her head. “We already know the secret society or whatever exists, so why send you back? Why risk your lives more than we already have?”

“It’s not like there was much risking going on in the first place,” Sam noted, sitting on the arm of the couch. “Honestly, not much happened -- and like Roberto said, it might be good for us to learn more and more so we can go in with more information.”

“Especially since we already have covers, which means you don’t have to create new ones for new people.”

“That last part actually depends,” Scott said from his desk, where he moderated Dani’s leadership training in relative silence. “How well did you do on your finals last week?”

“Eh.” Roberto made a so-so gesture with his hand and Sam grinned at the frown on Scott’s face. “Well enough to come back for another semester.”

Dani sighed, blowing breath through her teeth as she weighed the pros and cons as a leader does, and Sam watched her with no small amount of pride. In their absence, she’d grown as a leader, and though it was hard to tell with his visor, he could tell that Scott was proud of her, too. 

Finally, she made up her mind. “Fine. But we’re gonna change the communication system, cause I hate waiting for letters -- and if anything goes wrong, we’re pulling you out.”

Sam and Roberto exchanged a devilish grin. “Works for us, chief. One thing, though-”

“Oh, no.”

“Why that tone?” Roberto gasped with fake hurt at her, clutching imaginary pearls to his chest, and Sam laughed. “Always the suspicion -- honestly, Danielle, that hurts-”

“What did you do?”

“What did _I_ do? Why do you assume that I did something -- what if _Sam_ did something?”

“Hey!”

“What did you, _plural_ , do?”

“We were invited to a New Year’s Eve party,” Sam said, laughing. “It’d be a good way to go gather info outside a class setting, and preserve our cover.”

“And if anyone asks, we went back to our respective households for break.”

“Which is sort of true.”

Dani rubbed her temples and sighed again. “Fine, fine. Have fun at the party, boys.”

“Will do, chief. Have fun leader-training!”

~~~

The party was already in full swing when Sam and Roberto arrived, people talking and mingling and dancing to music at a volume that would’ve put the busiest times in the X-Mansion to shame. Sam marveled at the sheer volume of people Lynn had managed to invite and cram into the deceptively large apartment -- there was a Doctor Who joke to be made here, he supposed, but that was neither here nor there.

“My aunt and uncle are out of town and they’re letting me use their place!” Lynn shouted over the music, grinning from ear to ear. “Help yourselves to snacks, drinks -- see you around when the ball drops! Glad you could come!”

Sam mustered an awkward wave and a not-loud-enough “Thanks for inviting us!” and silently wished Dayna luck with her plan, what she’d planned for tonight. Last of the old year, first of the new -- tonight felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, especially with Dani’s warning from before.

Even after a few weeks of not being around campus, it still felt natural to link Roberto’s fingers with his, the two of them wandering together until they reached the kitchen. To Sam’s mild surprise, someone was already there -- a student just a little shorter than Sam, dipping into the salsa -- he’d thought everyone would be mingling on the dance floor. 

He turned with a cheery smile, sticking out his hand before either Sam or Roberto could say anything. “Hey! I’m Jack -- I don’t really know anyone here so I’m trying to meet people, yanno?”

“I feel that.” Sam shook his hand, smiling as genuinely as he could muster. “Sam Fields.”

“Roberto de Santos.”

The fake names rolled off their tongues in a way that made Sam vaguely uncomfortable somewhere in his chest -- like a brutal reminder of the mission, the things they were pretending to be. 

“What’s your major?” he asked, trying to distract himself from spiraling down the thought pattern that started with _Roberto_ and ended with _the mission will be over soon_ , and Jack snorted, leaning awkwardly against the counter.

“Undecided, but I’m leaning towards English. What about you?”

“Visual art,” Sam replied automatically, and felt rather than saw Roberto shift at his side. 

“Business, unfortunately.”

“Oh, no!” Jack laughed and popped a chip in his mouth, and Sam felt a sudden coldness on the palm of his hand as Roberto let go.

“Nice meeting you, Jack -- hey, Sam, I’m gonna go drift around, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied automatically. “Have fun!”

Roberto threw him a shining smile and Sam’s heart leaped before he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Sam free to lean on the counter and watch the party from afar.

“Not a party animal?” Jack supplied, and Sam chuckled.

“You could say that. Roberto, though, he’s the life and good times of every party.”

Something about the way he said it must have been off, because Jack looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Are you guys, like, friends…?”

“Roommates,” Sam said, and Jack nodded. 

“Ahh. Oh my god, you’re roommates.”

They shared a laugh and out of the corner of his eye, Sam noticed a copper colored flash from the pocket of Jack’s jean jacket, a cluster of pins adorning the flap of the pocket, though one in particular….

“Hey, what’s that?”

“Hmm?” Jack started and looked down, touching the buttons self-consciously. “Oh, this one?”

It was a well-made pin, Sam supposed, from what little he knew about pins -- a white short sword crossed with a little red key, a screen printed enamel scroll below it with words too small for Sam to make out in the limited lighting of the kitchen. 

“Yeah, my brother had it when he went to college here a few years ago,” Jack explained. “Gave it to me when I came here -- hasn’t really done anything, though. He won’t explain to me why he gave it to me, either.”

“Well, that’s older brothers for you,” Sam laughed, and Jack smiled. 

“Do you have siblings?”

“A few -- but I’m the oldest, so I speak from the other side of experience.”

“Ah. Must be nice to be the oldest,” Jack said wistfully, glancing at where Lynn was trying to set up a projector for the ball drop. “I’m the middle -- older brother, younger sister. Sucks.”

“Eh. Every place in the family has its pros and cons,” Sam replied diplomatically, and Jack chuckled again, pouring himself a drink of punch and handing Sam a cup of the same. 

“I’ll take your word for it. Cheers!”

The punch was probably not plain punch, Sam guessed, though there seemed to be no immediate danger at the moment, save for the weird pin on Jack’s lapel -- sword and key, wasn’t that what Roberto said the society’s name was? -- and so he took a cautious sip, making a face at the taste.

“Not a fan?”

“Too much sugar.”

“Ha! Oldest child behavior.”

Sam rolled his eyes just in time for Lynn to reappear out of the crowd. “Hey -- Sam, Jack! Nice to see that you guys have met -- do you know what time it is?”

“Uhh…” Sam instinctively looked at his wrist before remembering he left his watch at home, and behind him, Jack piped up, “Eleven fifty-five.”

“Oh, shit! Almost midnight!” She laughed and behind her, Dayna appeared, twisting her hands together nervously and giving Sam a strained smile. 

“Hey, Lynn,” she whispered, and Lynn turned with a grin.

“Yeah?”

They moved away, talking too quietly for Sam to hear over the roar of the party as everyone turned their attention to the projected ball drop, and Jack clapped Sam on the shoulder with an air of familiarity that made Sam grimace into his punch. “See you around, Fields -- gonna go somewhere where I can see the screen better.”

“Nice meeting you.” Sam raised his cup in a mock toast and Jack saluted him in response with a grin before he, too, disappeared into the crowd. 

The countdown on the screen ticked closer to midnight as Sam threw the rest of his punch away, scanning the crowd for any familiar faces -- or so he told himself, though he knew he was only looking for Roberto. The sword/key pin made him nervous, and he wondered what Roberto would make of it all -- it felt like he only had the middle pieces of the puzzle, like he was missing the border and couldn’t build without it.

Roberto was nowhere to be seen and Sam frowned. It had only a few minutes since they’d parted ways and yet, Sam found himself missing him -- which was, of course, ridiculous. It was only that Sam found himself wanting to be around Roberto all the time, only that elusive emotion some might call “love.”

Sam wished he could hurry up and get over it so everything could go back to the way it was.

One minute and fifteen seconds to midnight, and the crowd spat out Roberto from its agitated ranks, Roberto looking around wildly before spotting Sam and making his way towards the kitchen. He pulled on Sam’s collar until Sam bent down enough for Roberto to whisper, “Hey -- you’ll never _believe_ what I just found!”

~~~

Five minutes to midnight, and Roberto found himself mingling with a group of students, hanging on the outskirts of their conversation as he pretended to scroll through his phone.

“I heard having a badge from a previous member is an automatic way in,” one said offhandedly, setting up cups for what looked like a game of beer pong. “Like a nepotism thing.”

“Well, _I_ heard that their leaders are secret, and if you impress them enough or befriend them, you’re made a member, sometimes without even knowing it,” said one of the girls with him, making a shot.

“What’s the big deal, anyways?” whined her friend, rolling her eyes and flicking long hair away from her eyes. “Secret societies sound like a ploy for attention or-or something the college would put on a flyer to attract more students.”

“I just think it’s neat, y’know? Like the concept of secret passages.” One of the others took a shot and pumped his fist as the ball went in. “Plus, I hear the people who planned and threw this party are, y’know, tight with the leaders.”

Roberto tried to make it seem as if he was reacting with surprise at his blank Notes app, his mind whirling as he tried to process what they were saying. _Surely not the_ same _secret society that he and Sam were investigating?_

“There are tons of organizations that say ‘fuck muties,’ though,” said the first guy. “What’s so special about this one?”

“Probably the same thing that makes it a secret.”

Roberto slipped away unnoticed, mind whirling as he tried to process the information. This party was, as it turned out, a gold mine of information -- _what did they mean when they said Lynn was tight with the leaders? Is that secret society the same as the sword and key?_

Sam had been by the kitchen, he remembered, and changed his course through the crowd. Time to find him again, time to have Sam by his side so they could figure this out together. 

He saw Sam before Sam saw him, and smiled to see how tall and awkward he looked, hands shoved in his pockets as he scanned the crowd, so clearly out of place here just as he’d felt out of place at every party they attended back in the day, at the local high school. Roberto found himself wishing that they didn’t have to come, if only to spare Sam the discomfort, but Sam’s eyes finally settled on him and his smile lit up his whole face.

Roberto tugged on his collar ( _no way I’m standing on my toes this time_ ) until he bent over enough for Roberto to hiss, “Hey -- you’ll never _believe_ what I just found!”

“Won’t I?” Sam whispered back, but they were interrupted by the crowd, cheering wildly as the final countdown began. Even without trying, Roberto knew that there was no way he’d be able to tell Sam what he found without someone else overhearing, a risk they couldn’t afford to take, and so instead he looked up and tried not to drown in grey-blue eyes.

“Sam?”

“Hmm?” 

“Can I kiss you?”

The crowd surged behind them, the clock hitting the final five seconds of the old year as Sam’s breath came out in a whoosh, eyes widening.

The crowd screamed behind him. “Three!”

“Okay,” Sam breathed, and Roberto grinned.

“Two!”

_Okay, maybe I will have to stand on my toes. Fine._

“One!”

The last second of the old year and the first second of the new lasted an eternity and a millisecond, the cheers in the background fading away until Roberto’s whole world was directly in front of him, held in his hands. Sam’s jawline was rough with stubble under his palms but his lips were soft, his arms around Roberto’s lower back holding him securely even though Roberto felt that he might fall down at any second (an unfortunate side effect of being short and standing on one’s toes). He felt _safe,_ felt comfortable in a way he hadn’t in a very long time, this felt _right_ and like a lightning bolt out of a blue sky, it hit him.

_Madonna._

They broke apart and Roberto could only stare wide eyed at Sam as the party went on around them, the ghost of a sensation playing across his lips and Sam’s hands still heavy at his waist.

“Sam-”

Someone bumped into them and Roberto let go, turning with a flinch, only to see Lynn and Dayna, both of them grinning -- and, in Dayna’s case, crying a little bit. “Hey! Happy New Year’s!”

“Thanks for the advice, guys,” Dayna added, and Lynn nodded fervently before turning and kissing Dayna on the cheek. “Everything -- everything’s okay, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Sam’s voice was hoarse, Roberto noticed distantly, but he cleared his throat and it was gone. “I’m glad -- uh, glad and proud of you, Dayna. Glad it worked out okay.”

She leaped forward and hugged them, laughing giddily. “Happy New Year’s!”

“Happy New Year’s,” Roberto responded automatically, though most of his brain was occupied with the weight of Sam’s hand, moved to his hip as Sam pulled him close to his side when Dayna let go. “Hope you have a good one!”

“You, too!” They wandered away, holding hands, and Sam pulled Roberto into a hallway, ducking into a closet. He cleared his throat again, letting go of Roberto, and Roberto distantly registered the sudden coldness where his hand was.

“Jack has a sword-and-key pin that his older brother gave him,” Sam whispered in the dark of the closet. “Think it’s connected to the secret society?”

“Yeah.” Roberto cleared his throat with annoyance -- how had his voice gotten hoarse, too? -- and quickly relayed the details of the conversation he’d overheard. He couldn’t see Sam’s expression change in the dark, but he could guess -- the furrowed brows that he always got when he was thinking through a problem, the pensive look in his eyes.

“Okay, I think -- where are you?”

He reached blindly into the darkness and Roberto responded, linking their fingers together. “Here.”

“Sshhh.”

Footsteps from outside. Roberto’s eyes finally adjusted and he saw Sam’s eyes widen in panic a second before Roberto hissed, “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Please?”

Sam obeyed without a second thought -- and not a second too soon. The closet door opened and the people on the other side laughed awkwardly.

“Sorry!”

The door closed again and they broke apart far sooner than Roberto would’ve liked, though the sight of Sam’s wide eyes in the darkness almost made up for it. “Nice thinking,” he whispered. “Know what we’re gonna do after this?”

The question felt bigger than just about the society, and Roberto was seized with sudden fear. What _were_ they going to do?

“I vote ask Dani,” Sam offered when Roberto didn’t say anything. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sounds good.” Roberto blinked against the light when Sam opened the closet door and followed him out, head spinning.

_First day of the New Year,_ he thought. _Hell of a time to have a revelation like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -i don't really know how beer pong works,  
> -thank you thank you thank you all so much for coming along this ride! we're halfway through and i'm looking forward to the next 10 chapters!! <3 !!!!  
> -I hope you are all staying safe and healthy!


	11. Sapere Aude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's thursday somewhere, i suppose. sorry for the late update, but thank you so much for your wonderfully lovely comments on the last chapter!! as always, they mean so so much to me!   
> the title of this chapter means "Dare to Know" -- who knew latin would come in handy so much for fanfiction, of all things?

The room seemed several times smaller with only Roberto in it, even though he didn’t take up much room himself -- contrary to the usual state of things, he curled up in the desk chair in the corner, hissing frantically into his phone.

“I’m _serious_ , Dani! The mission is getting good but I dunno if we’re the best people for it anymore?”

“You sure that’s all it is?” Incredible, how she managed to sound so skeptical over the phone -- if he closed his eyes, Roberto was certain that he could see the exact expression on her face. 

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Uh huh.”

“Stop making that face.”

“What face?” Dani feigned innocence but he heard her snort, along with the rustling of papers -- she must be sitting at a desk, then, probably the other desk in Scott’s study that had been sitting in its Ikea box when they’d been there last. Matching desks for you and your protegee. “No idea what you’re talking about, ‘Berto. Anyways…”

He groaned loud enough for her to hear and she snickered. “Got a call from Sam. You’ll never believe what he said.”

“Oh?” Roberto hated that he wanted to know, that he absolutely _had_ to know what Sam had said -- if it was about him, if it was about the mission, even if it was about the weather. He hated that he cared so much about what had formerly been the best friendship of his entire life, and now stood balanced on the edge of something more.

The other side of that edge being, of course, losing it all.

“Said that you guys were getting closer. Interesting people, interesting leads, et cetera -- he also got weirdly cough-y and quiet when I asked about that New Year’s party you guys went to -- how’d that go?”

“Umm…” Roberto debated for a second -- confess or stress? Take the chance that his friend and leader would sympathize and help him out or ignore it all in hopes that it would evaporate? -- and on the other end, Dani groaned.

“Ugh. Not you, too. Can’t run this damn mission unless you guys _talk_ to me.”

“It’s probably killing you to not be in the field, stuck in a cushy desk job,” Roberto joked on instinct.

“I’m fine with not being at college, thanks. Maybe someday. But will you _please_ just tell me what’s going on? What happened at the party?”

_Oh, you mean besides my realizing that I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with my best friend?_ Roberto thought, biting back his instinctive reply. Instead, he said, “You know, regular party stuff -- Sam’s probably just embarrassed that he spent the whole time in the corner.”

“Sam’s not exactly a party animal,” Dani agreed, and though Roberto could sense her continuing suspicion, she let the subject drop. “Sage got some more info about sword and key, though not much. I’m sending it to your school email, okay? It’s the doc titled ‘bio notes.’”

“Oh, cool. I’m sure that’ll be great for tests.”

“Ha, ha. Sage says that there’s not much digital stuff available, so they must keep most of their stuff analog. Snoop around in the library a bit, see if you can find anything about that -- just don’t be suspicious.”

“Me being in the library is suspicious enough.”

“You’re not fooling anyone, da Costa. I know about your collection of detective novels.”

“Seriously? Is nothing sacred?”

“Not when you still haven’t read Sherlock Holmes. You call yourself a detective fan?”

“Shut _up_. I’ve been meaning to get to it.”

“Well, maybe you’ll get your chance now, before things heat up with sword and key.” Dani sounded almost gentle, though Roberto was sure he was imagining things. “And you can say that’s why you’re at the library.”

“That’s actually not a bad plan.”

“Glad to help you out.” Roberto cringed at the sudden burst of loud static from Dani’s end and she winced. “Sorry. I gotta go, okay? Call later?”

“Sure thing, boss. See ya.”

She hung up and Roberto leaned back in the chair, scrubbing his eyes with one hand ( _why didn’t I just_ tell _her?_ ) and letting his phone dangle until it vibrated, sending him back upright with a jolt.

SAM: naomi and i are at the library if u wanna come -- think she’s kinda awkward cause she’s your friend more than mine

He sighed. Think of the devil…

Or angels. If one thinks of angels, Roberto supposed, then miracles will present themselves to one’s eyes.

ROBERTO: sure

ROBERTO: omw

He allowed himself a few more seconds in the empty room, letting his feelings languish in the back of his mind, before standing up and slinging his back across his body. As Roberto moved towards the door, he mentally restrained the newfound emotion, telling it off sternly like a misbehaving dog, all the way to the library.

It wasn’t hard to spot Sam and Naomi -- not only surrounded by books, but also with two skeins of yarn spinning out of the bag Sam had placed on the desk. Seeing him was like a gravitational pull in Roberto’s chest -- even if he wanted to, he doubted he could’ve stopped his legs from taking him over to Sam and hugging him from behind, ever the doting boyfriend in public though his thoughts threatened to betray him in quiet.

“Hey, handsome.” Sam gave him a radiant smile and Naomi grinned at him.

“‘Sup? Guess who’s failing at knitting?”

“You’re not failing,” Sam said patiently. “It sometimes takes a bit, ‘s all. You’re doing fine.”

“Spoken like a true optimist.” She frowned at her tangle of yarn and her knitting needles. “I don’t even know how I did that.”

“Here, let me see.”

Roberto left his bag on the chair next to Sam and gave him a little wave as he drifted into the bookshelves, each looming over him like titans, full of knowledge he couldn’t hope (or want) to obtain in a thousand lifetimes. 

_Sword and key, sword and key, sword and key…._

It took a bit of wandering, Roberto trailing his fingers across the embossed spines of some of the nicer-looking books in the stacks, but finally, a slim book caught his eye, the title too faded to read.

Roberto frowned. Odd. One would think that a university library would keep their books in better care.

He tugged on it gently and it slid out of the shelf as if it had been waiting for him, no title in place on either side -- just a sword and a key, crossed, with a motto written in swirling text beneath it.

“Sapere Aude,” he murmured aloud to himself. “Huh.”

A quick search was enough to give him the meaning (God, but it had been a while since he’d taken Latin), though the contents proved a little more elusive, a cursory glance revealing nothing more than regular photos of smiling students.

“Hey.”

Roberto jumped, heartbeat skyrocketing, though it didn’t slow down when Sam put a steadying hand on his upper arm. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to sneak up on you -- I was just getting kinda worried when you didn’t come back.”

The suspicion of the mission was starting to get to both of them, Roberto figured, but the sweet worry in Sam’s eyes was almost enough to make him break down and _tell_ him everything, from the worry that he would never be enough to the fear that something would go wrong and he’d be left alone again.

He was grateful for whatever filter stopped _that_ from happening.

“It’s -- it’s fine. I-I found this.” He practically shoved the book at Sam and Sam took it, gently flipping through the pages, humming low under his breath. 

“Huh. Sapere Aude?”

“Dare to know.”

“Cool motto. Wonder what they’re daring to know.”

Someone’s phone buzzed. Roberto’s hand immediately went to his pocket and he gave his phone a cursory glance though he realized that it was not his. Sam scowled at his phone, the lighting of the screen giving his face a dramatic shadow.

“Did you ever meet Jack?”

“Who?”

“From the party. ‘Pparently Lynn gave him my number, and he wants to meet up.” Sam looked up and Roberto looked down, avoiding his eyes. “He had a pin from his older brother -- a sword and a key, crossed.”

“Ooooo. Definitely go meet up with him.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Besides that, though, you gonna come sit down with us?” He smiled and Roberto coughed, leaning against the nearest shelf.

“I-sure. Sure. Lead the way.”

Incredible, Roberto thought. Incredible how he could feel as if he was falling on stable ground.


	12. Bang!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the super-late update -- but I hope the fact that I'm posting two chapters makes up for it!! one today and one tomorrow, so keep a lookout!! thanks for keeping up!!

His footsteps on the pavement made a steady staccato beat to Sam’s speeding thoughts, each tumbling over the next like a river. Morning jogs like this one were good for thinking, alone as he was in the early morning air, but today’s train of thought was much less peaceful than he’d like it to be. 

Over and over again, he played New Year’s Eve in his mind -- not analyzing the mission or the clues as he should’ve been, but rather replaying the sensation of the night -- the feeling of Roberto’s lips on his, the sensation of his hands on Roberto’s lower back, and even stretching into this morning, when he’d woken up with Roberto snuggled against him in a way that was quickly becoming expected, routine.

Even after New Year’s, neither had suggested sleeping in separate beds, let alone separate rooms. Every morning, without fail, Sam found himself surprised to still find Roberto sleeping soundly in his arms, without a care in the world -- and every morning, Sam wondered at it all.

It was either cruel or benevolent of fate to play this hand, to force them so close like this. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Sam often found himself wondering if they would have continued along the “just friends” road if the mission hadn’t ever come along, and whether or not his own feelings had been blown out of proportion by all that. Was it too much to ask, for everything to go back to normal after all this was over?

Assuming it would be over anytime soon. Two weeks since the start of the new semester, and still no further leads past the worn book Roberto had found in the library. It might have been unrealistic to expect it to move any faster -- especially since it hadn’t gone anywhere during the first semester -- but Sam felt as though if the mission kept going, it might go far enough that it couldn’t be forgotten.

Early morning cuddling could be victim to plausible deniability. Kisses, likewise, could be denied. Nearly everything could, Sam thought, except for the fact that he was very much probably in love with his best friend.

_And if Roberto finds out?_ he asked himself. _Hard to believe he’d be...like that about it all._

_But supporting Shan isn’t the same as your best friend admitting to having a crush on you,_ he argued. _It could ruin everything. It could change everything. I could lose the best friend I’d ever had if it makes everything awkward enough._

_Would he do that to me?_

The only two other people out in this early-morning chill were stopped at a light up ahead, and Sam slowed to a stop a respectful distance away, sucking in a breath of chilly air and shivering when it hit the back of his throat.

“Cold today, isn’t it?” one of the other joggers said conversationally, and Sam smiled stiffly. 

“Mhm.”

“I’ve seen you around on campus,” the other jogger went on, seemingly oblivious to Sam’s discomfort about talking to a stranger. “Fields, right?”

“Yup. Call me Sam.” He shook the other’s hand robotically, still somewhat occupied with thoughts of Roberto, and the stranger smiled.

“Nick. Wait, were you at Lynn’s New Year’s party?”

“Yeah?”

“Oh, same! Dude, I knew I recognized you from somewhere else.” The light changed and Nick matched Sam, step for step, across the crosswalk. “Honestly, I’ve been to better parties, but it wasn’t too bad, y’know? Anyways, how do you know Lynn?”

“Met her earlier in the year.” Sam wished Nick would leave so he could continue with his jog and thoughts in peace, but Nick didn’t seem to notice (not that Sam was looking for his wish to be noticed -- even now, politeness won over the selfish desire to think about Roberto for the rest of the jog).

“Cool, cool. What’s your major?”

“Visual art, but I’m thinking of switching to or double-majoring in English. What about you?”

Before he said it, Sam hadn’t even realized he’d been thinking about switching his imaginary major, but as the words left his mouth he realized that he _did_ maybe want that -- and yet again, his mind circled back to Roberto (doubtless still asleep back in the apartment), as he wondered if saying feelings out loud to Roberto would make it more or less real.

Why did it always come back to him?

“So, there have been some pretty funky rumors about you, man,” Nick said offhandedly, interrupting Sam’s internal strife. “Honestly, it’s like, really discon -- I mean, weird, to meet you, not gonna lie.”

“Is it?” Sam answered vaguely, keeping his eyes fixed ahead ( _please leave,_ he thought in Nick’s direction, _please just leave_ ). “Nice to hear my reputation precedes me. Good things, I hope?”

“Eh. Depending on who you ask.” Nick turned and Sam stopped abruptly, just before he automatically followed Nick down the other street. Nick stopped too, raising an eyebrow at Sam as he chuckled awkwardly.

“Guess this is where I leave you. Nice to meet you, Nick.”

“Nice to meet you too, Guthrie.”

A chill like a bolt of lightning made Sam’s hair stand on end, sweat cooling on his arms as he spun around, only to find an empty street where Nick had once stood. He scanned the empty road for a few seconds before turning around, fighting the desire to sprint straight back to the apartment in favor of a more winding road.

_Just to make sure I’m not being followed._

_Oh, God, what if they’re already there? What if they already have him?_

Roberto, half asleep as he typically was before at least ten, would be easy prey for someone who came prepared enough, even with enhanced strength and X-Men training. What-if scenarios ran rampant in Sam’s head, each more amplified and extreme than the next, until finally he was satisfied that he wasn’t being watched and jogged homeward. He barely noticed sore muscles as he prepared himself for the possible worst, steeling his mind and clenching his fist so tightly his shield flickered around his knuckles. 

The lock of the apartment hadn’t been forced. That was good. 

He entered quietly, setting his shoes aside to slide on the floor as soundlessly as he could, every creaking pipe and every footstep from upstairs making him flinch. Memories of Magneto’s training told him to watch the shadows, look for the sources of light, crouch behind corners as many will only look at their sightline.

No one appeared. Sam tried the handle of the door and it creaked as it swung open, someone inside making a noise somewhere between a disgruntled groan and a garbled mutter.

He straightened up slowly and relaxed at the sight of Roberto sprawled across the bed in a sunbeam, hugging a pillow and burying his face in it, as asleep and peaceful as he’d been when Sam had left. In the face of no real danger, it suddenly seemed silly, an overreaction -- but Sam tried to force himself to remain vigilant.

“‘Berto? Hey, ‘Berto.”

“Hmmm?” Roberto yawned and Sam wrinkled his nose at his morning breath, even though the sight of Roberto’s sleepy smile all but stole the air from his lungs. “Ah. G’morning.”

“Morning.”

“You look serious.”

“Something weird happened on my jog just now, s’all. Wanted to let you know.”

“Mmm.”

Before Sam could elaborate, his stomach did, growling loudly enough to shock him into silence, and Roberto laughed, bright enough that Sam found his embarrassment replaced by something he might’ve called adoration. “Guess that’s not a conversation happening without breakfast. C’mon.”

He sat up and ran a hand through his hair, stretching, his shirt riding up just enough to expose a thin slice of stomach. “Bad news is always better with food.”

“Mhm. I feel like pancakes, today.”

“Ah, same thought.”

“You’re lucky I know how to make pancakes,” Sam teased gently, and Roberto laughed again, sleepily leaning forward to lean against Sam.

“Lucky in a lot of ways.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you so much for reading!! hmu @speedyshepherd on tumblr if you'd like to yell about these dumbasses anytime!   
> slightly off topic: i know ao3 is asking for donations, but despite the fact that i use this platform rather extensively, if you have the money i urge you to donate instead to organizations for public health, particularly ones aimed at vulnerable communities. ao3 is nice but human lives are far more precious -- and even if the site goes down i'll still find a way to get this fic to you all :D thank you for reading!!!


	13. Unlucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a new chapter earlier rather than later! Regular updates should resume every Thursday after this one -- I promise I'll set an alarm these next few times! As always, thank you so much for reading!

Rationality reasoned that, since they had confirmation that their cover was probably blown, they should call the X-Men and get out as soon as they could, when they still could. 

Unfortunately, Roberto had never really been into rational thinking. 

It had taken a bit of convincing to get Sam on his side, but eventually it happened -- once Roberto argued that if they flew the coop now, Sword and Key might never come out into the open until it became a problem later down the line. Even the allusion to his siblings having to deal with these losers was enough to cement his decision, and plus, Roberto suspected it was a pride thing too. After all, the encounter he’d had on his morning jog was a borderline threat, and among the many things Roberto found he loved about Sam was that he picked his battles, and once chosen, didn’t run from them.

Sam relayed the details of this weird “Nick” dude, and combined with the info from the party, found them at Lynn’s apartment door, one class and a batch of pancakes later (God, but Roberto loved Sam’s pancake recipe). 

“I don’t even know if she’s home,” Sam muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets, and Roberto linked his arm with Sam’s, grinning. 

“If not, we’ll come back later. Something else on your mind?”

“Mm.” Sam’s jaw clenched and Roberto tried to shove all thoughts of his sharp jawline to the back of his mind where they’d never bother him again. “You said that you’d overheard at the party that the leaders are friends with Lynn, right?”

“Well, with whoever planned and threw the party, yeah.”

“Wondering if it was a trap. Stuff like that.”

“Now’s probably a bad time for a Star Wars reference, huh?”

That made Sam smile, for which Roberto was grateful -- yes, his jawline was _great_ but his smile was better -- though it was short-lived, as the door opened and Lynn raised her eyebrows at them.

“‘Sup?”

“Hey. Wanted to ask you about New Year’s, and...stuff.” Sam fidgeted awkwardly, so realistically that Roberto wondered if it was part of the act or a real nervousness (as hard as he tried to deny it himself, he was feeling pretty anxious about this part, too), and Lynn stepped back from the door.

“Alright. What’s up?”

The door closed behind them but Sam made no move to walk further into the apartment, so Roberto leaned on his shoulder (ah, the perfect height for leaning) and listened. Sam had been friends with Lynn for longer, so they’d agreed that he would be better for talking it out -- if there was anything to be talked about. 

“At the party the other night, ‘Berto overheard something a bit alarming. Something about...I dunno. They call themselves ‘sword and key,’ or something like that.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s just a stupid ‘secret society.’” Lynn put finger-quotes around ‘secret society’ and rolled her eyes. “Two of my older siblings were in it, and a couple of their friends are still here, so they’ve been trying to get me to join.”

Roberto’s ears perked up at this, and he could tell Sam was thinking what he was thinking, too, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he lamented _Madonna, why can’t he just_ know _what I feel without me ever having to_ tell _him?_

“Are you going to join?”

“I dunno. Maybe. I mean, apparently there’s good connections for jobs and stuff, but...I dunno.” She cocked her head at them, sharp eyes behind dark makeup. “Why?”

“Oh, no reason. I-”

Roberto cringed. That just sounded like they were up to something.

“We -- well, I -- was interested in joining,” he interrupted, squeezing Sam’s arm. “Sounded interesting, I guess, and they’re always talking about rich kids and secret societies, right?” He tried for a charming smile, but Lynn’s expression didn’t change. 

He tried again. “My father was in a secret society when he was in college, so I figured I’d go find a new one. Keep the tradition, you know, without stepping on his toes.”

_That_ was patently false, but she seemed to buy it -- she pulled a wallet out of her pocket and fished around in it, finally removing something that, at first glance, looked like a dark business card. When she handed it to Roberto, though, he realized it was actually a very thin slice of metal, laser-engraved with the familiar sword and key logo.

“They gave me two of those, just in case I wanted to join,” Lynn said. “I’m super on the fence about it, cause -- well, you _know_ secret societies. All rich white men who are probably homophobic and would _definitely_ not let me bring my girlfriend along-”

Sam perked up. “Oh, so it all worked out?”

“Yup.” Lynn relaxed and laughed a little. “Dayna told me about the help you guys gave her -- thanks again. It’s better now that everything’s out in the open -- like, it’s weird transition from friendship to relationship but it’s really good too, you know?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Roberto wished he could take that to heart, but the two situations just weren’t the same. Best friends on a college campus did not equal “we’ve been willing to die for each other since we were in our mid-teens,” in any way, shape, or form.

(Except for the shape in which they were both in love with their best friends.)

“Well, I’m glad it all turned out okay,” Sam said, snaking his arm around Roberto’s waist. “Thanks for your help, Lynn.”

“No problem. Got a class soon?”

“Yeah, sorry. See you later?”

“Of course. Bye!”

They made their exit remarkably fast and once they were far enough away, walking down the sidewalk, Roberto pulled the card out of his pocket again. He turned it over and over in his hands, focusing on the letters and trying to ignore how Sam’s arm was still around him. It slightly hampered their walking but Roberto wasn’t going to ask him to stop -- but he wondered, at the same time, why he was doing that. No one to perform for out here -- in fact, there was no one here at all.

“Should I call this number now or later?” Roberto asked, running a finger along the little phone number below the logo. 

Sam hummed. “Now, I think.”

Roberto dialed the number and waited with bated breath as the other end rang, both of them stopping in the middle of the sidewalk -- Sam listening carefully, Roberto waiting.

The line clicked. 

“Good morning, Mr. da Costa.” “

His lungs seized up in cold fear and Sam grunted, toppling forward and clutching his neck. Roberto caught him with one arm, keeping the phone pinned to his face.

“At the risk of sounding cliche…”

A little silver dart in Sam’s neck. Roberto wondered at the stereotypicality of it all -- really, tranquilizer darts? -- before a car screeched up to the curb, all black with darkened windows.

“...we’ve been expecting you.”


	14. We've Hit Rock Bottom...

When Sam opened his eyes, the grogginess of the tranquilizer fading away ( _really? Tranquilizer darts? Could they be any more basic?_ ), he wasn’t sure at first that he’d woken up at all. It was as dark as empty space, no stars to light his way, and for a second, he wondered if he was dead.

He moved his head and winced -- if the neck cramps were any indication, he was still very much alive.

Plus, being dead typically didn’t come with jewelry. Something heavy and metal weighed down his neck, his wrists -- probably power inhibitors, he thought, confirmed when he tried to access his shield and felt nothing.

He tried to stretch but his arms hit walls before he could, a low thud shaking him to his core as he frantically felt out the dimensions of the cell. Open space before him, but not much space where he was -- a box more than a cell, like a coffin.

_Have I been buried alive? Did they bury me alive?_

Memories came rushing to his mind, unbidden, bile rising in his throat as he remembered the mine, the collapse, everything crumbling around him like a premade grave. Sam could feel his heartbeat shaking his chest, his arms, as he scrabbled for something that wasn’t a wall -- some light, maybe? A door, a way out?

Nothing. His fingers slid over smooth walls, finding no purchase and no hope. His breath echoed back at him in the small space, loud and panicked, and Sam choked back a sob.

_No, no, no. It wasn’t supposed to end this way._

Could telepaths even hear him if he was six feet down? How much oxygen did he have left -- and how much was he accidentally using up as he gasped for air? His chest hurt -- was that because of the air?

Someone else in the space groaned and Sam’s heart jumped, instantly remembering every horrible thing he’d ever heard about any graveyard. _Who’s there?_

“Sam? Are you there?”

_Roberto,_ he wanted to choke out, but still his breathing rang loud and uneven, making words impossible. _I’m sorry, I’m so sorry it ends this way, Roberto-_

“Sam?” A hand touched his knee and Sam flinched.

The hand withdrew and Sam wished it hadn’t. 

“Are you okay? Hm, wait, stupid question. Let’s breathe, okay? It’s okay.”

Another set of breaths filled the limited air, slower and steadier than Sam’s panicky ones, and he closed his eyes (not that there was much difference) and tried to listen. 

“Breathe,” Roberto whispered, and Sam reached out into the darkness, towards where the walls weren’t. His hand bumped Roberto’s shoulder and Roberto drew him in, letting Sam lean against his shoulder, burying his face in the crook of his neck as they breathed slowly and in sync. 

“There you go. It’s okay. We’ll be okay.”

His best friend smelled like his ridiculously expensive aftershave and ozone, felt like stability, and if Sam focused, he could feel his pulse in his neck, stable and slow.

Now, breathing slower came easier, Roberto’s hands rubbing his back slowly, calmly, and Sam found that he was too tired to worry about the fact that he was half-sprawled across Roberto, the panic easing and leaving exhaustion in its place. 

He sighed and Roberto shivered, chuckling quietly. “That tickles.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, and Roberto made an awkward half motion, almost like he was nodding or bobbing his head. He sighed and rubbed circles into Sam’s upper back, fingers skating over where the old stab wound from Asgard was, and Sam hoped he couldn’t feel the goosebumps that his touch left behind.

“You don’t need to be sorry, Sam.”

“Still am.”

“Jerk.” Sam could hear the smile in Roberto’s voice and it made him smile too, even breaths and steady heart, tiredness replacing fear as he drifted off into sleep.

“You sleep, I’ll try to figure something out,” Roberto murmured, and Sam again felt tears prickling his eyes and stuffing up his nose at the tenderness in Roberto’s voice.

“‘Kay. Thank you.”

“What are best friends for?”

~~~

The thump of boots on the floor woke Sam up, confusion and darkness disorienting him until he remembered where he was, what happened. He could feel Roberto gripping his shirt, both of them tense as they tried to prepare themselves for whatever could happen.

Something flashed above them and they both groaned, the sudden light searing their eyes after so long spent in the dark, and Sam grunted as he felt hands heave him up and shove him forward, though his legs didn’t support him at first. 

“What the hell?” he heard Roberto gasp behind him, the two of them stumbling forward together along a too-bright hallway. 

When Sam’s eyes finally adjusted, he found himself standing in an office decorated in dark, sober wood, unoccupied save for one person looking out a window, their back to them. Whoever had pulled Sam from the dark pushed him into a chair, the restraints on his wrists snapping into place, and Sam made less effort to resist than he should have, his head still spinning.

“Ugh. I assume you’re the leader of sword and key?” Roberto growled, kneading his eyes. Sam snuck a glace at him and realized with a jolt that the inhibitor cuffs he sported were nowhere to be seen on Roberto -- why? What had they done?

“Gladium Clavumque. Yes.”

“I thought it was just gladium clavem.”

“A common mistake.” The figure turned but Sam still couldn’t make out their features. “My deepest apologies for the rough welcome -- you _are_ who we think you are, yes?”

“Depends.” Sam tried to pretend like he knew more than them, scowling. “Who do you think we are?”

“Well, despite the fact that we conduct ourselves in a slightly different manner than the Hellfire Club-”

“He means ‘less like a weird BSDM sex club,’” offered another voice, and Sam turned with a start, the owner of the voice standing in the corner where she’d previously gone unnoticed. 

She looked a _lot_ like Lynn, he realized.

“Yes, that. We do try to keep up to date on the activities of the Club, and I have to say, Mr. da Costa, I _am_ a fan.” 

“Oh. Weird fanclub you’ve got.” 

The figure came closer, close enough for Sam to finally process their face -- a well-dressed boy that looked as if he ought to be doing covers for a golf magazine. He reminded Sam of every city-made TV show that made it their God-given mission to mock his Appalachian home, and even if he hadn’t kidnapped them and kept them in a box in the floor, Sam thought he still would’ve disliked him.

“I am _truly_ sorry for your treatment, Mr. da Costa, but are you aware that your so-called boyfriend is a mutant?”

“Uh…”

“What?”

“Where are my manners?” The figure (the leader?) came closer, leaning against the desk with a smile. “My name is Jefferson -- like the President Jefferson. My friends call me Jeff.”

“Okay…?” Roberto looked exactly as confused as Sam felt, but Jefferson went on, oblivious to the truth.

“As I was saying, my contacts within the system alerted me to your enrollment, albeit under a false name -- good idea, by the way, especially with a resume such as yours! -- but I noticed early on that you were living with your so-called _boyfriend_.”

“Is that a problem?” Sam growled, and Jefferson feigned surprise.

“No _problems_ , Mr. Guthrie -- or should I call you Cannonball? As I’m sure you’ve been plotting to kill Mr. da Costa for his involvement in the Hellfire Club?”

The notion was so ridiculous that Sam could only laugh. “ _Kill_ him?”

“Well, yes. After all, we have records of _your_ involvement with the X-Men, as well as eyewitness accounts of your presence on various X-Men related events over the years. Don’t worry, Mr. da Costa -- may I call you Roberto? -- we won’t allow him to harm you.” 

Jefferson reached into his suit jacket (what kind of college student willingly wore a suit jacket? Sam wondered) and removed a little gun, pointing it square at Sam’s forehead, the expression on his face akin to squishing a bug. “We have people that will make him disappear.”

“Don’t fucking touch him,” Roberto growled, his voice dropping an octave, and Sam’s breath hitched, the gun barrel wavering.

Jefferson frowned. “Don’t tell me you still have _feelings_ for him? Even the best can be duped, Roberto, no shame in that.”

“Who said anything about shame?” Roberto stood up and knocked the gun away from Sam, shoving Jefferson backwards to the desk. Lynn-lookalike in the corner started forward, alarmed, but Roberto pulled Jefferson in by his shirt collar, lifting him off the ground despite the fact that Jefferson was at least five inches taller than him.

“Listen, you little bitch, I -- the Hellfire Club would let your shitty little after-school club burn a thousand times before you hurt him. You say you’re really interested in Hellfire? Either you leave him alone or I’ll give you a taste.”

Jefferson, to his credit, seemed weirdly nonplussed, even dangling above the ground as he was. “Do you really believe he would spare you? Even if it was against the mutant cause?”

“What I believe isn’t up to you.”

“Are you sure he is what you think he is, Jeff?” Lynn-lookalike circled the situation, warily watching Roberto. “Betrayal doesn’t look like this.”

“Denial does,” Jefferson reassured her. “Roberto, please calm down -- and put me down, please.”

“Don’t call me that. Let Sam go.”

Someone knocked at the door and Jefferson cleared his throat. “Yes? Come in.”

Someone poked his head in and Sam’s gut tightened when he recognized Nick, the weasel. Nick smiled greasily at him before clearing his throat, directing his attention at Jefferson. “Hey, boss, we finished analyzing that footage we got from the donation. Guess what?”

“I’m not guessing.”

“Scans are a match. Your hero Mr. da Costa is _also_ a mutant, the one called Sunspot.” Nick laughed, rough and raspy. “Tough luck. Looks like both of them are gonna have to get yeeted on out of here.”

“Pity.” Jefferson didn’t miss a beat, but Roberto’s fingers tightened around his throat.

“Nuh uh. You’re gonna let us go.”

“You, plural?” Something cold and hard nudged the back of Sam’s head and he froze, action movies he’d watched informing him exactly what was poking his skull. “Not all of us like big monologues.”

Lynn-lookalike. God.

“Put the man down, Sunspot.”

Sam could see Roberto weighing the options -- how fast he was, how fast bullets were -- before he carefully put Jefferson down, hate and rage coming off him like dry ice fog.

Someone’s phone buzzed and Jefferson checked his pockets. “Ah! I think this one is for you, Sam -- from someone named Dani. We’ll just tell her everything’s fine…”

Sam gritted his teeth as his phone clicked, the message typed and sent, and Jefferson slipped it away, clapping his hands with a boyish grin. “Well! Where were we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!! as always, i hope you and yours are safe and healthy, and come yell at/with me on tumblr @speedyshepherd!


	15. ...Unless They Came to Dig

“It’s much harder to dispose of two bodies than one, so I’m afraid we’ll have to wait on that -- put you back into the crawl space, if you don’t mind.”

Jefferson’s smile wasn’t like a shark -- more like a gleeful child pouring salt on slugs -- and it reminded Roberto of Arcade, of the grin decorating wanted posters saved in the files of the X-Mansion. Horrible, intelligent, and taking great pleasure in the harm of others.

In this case, it seemed, especially mutants.

“Of course, it won’t be for a waste. We’ll make sure to get everything we need from you beforehand -- think of it as donating your bodies to science! We’ll get everything we need to inherit our planet!”

He droned on but Roberto focused more on Sam stiffening behind him, the thought of being shoved back into the crawl space making him shiver. It would’ve been imperceptible to anyone else, but Roberto felt it, and he wished he could say or do something to reassure him.

Though, all things considered, there really wasn’t much “reassuring” to be done.

“So. Now that we have _you_ in your cuffs, I guess it’s back to storage with you! I’ll see you next when you last see the sun.” Jefferson smiled and moved forward. “Once again, Sunspot -- I wish you weren’t the way you are.”

Sam jerked to life behind Roberto and Jefferson yelped as Sam kicked out at him, a futile effort quickly stopped by the hulking guards from just outside the door. Though he couldn’t see Sam, Roberto could hear him -- the dull _thuds_ of fists, grunts of pain, and heavy breathing when they finally stopped.

“Hmph. What a useless outburst.” Jefferson turned away and waved his hand, and Roberto hated him even as they were dragged away.

Resistance, even with training, could only do so much with their hands tied (literally), and it meant nothing if they’d be recaptured later -- but Roberto wondered for a second if he was the only one thinking of it. As they got closer and closer to the crawl space they’d formerly been imprisoned in, he could see Sam shrinking back, unwilling to go back in again.

“Hey, you can go on,” one of the guards said behind him, and Roberto frowned. Out of all the voices he’d been expecting from the guard, that was not one of them.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I got them.”

“Okay. See you around.”

The other guard shambled off and Roberto wondered briefly about the merits of knocking this one out before the voice changed again. “Roberto?”

“Shan?”

Sam’s head snapped up and Roberto’s heart swelled to see hope in his eyes. “Shan! You -- how?”

“Tell you later. We’re still pretty far out, though -- I’m using the mobile Cerebro but we won’t be there for around half an hour. Would you be okay with-”

She didn’t have to say it. Sam’s face closed again and he took a step back.

“Shan, I -- you don’t-”

“I know that there’s around fifty people here -- not just students, but also faculty and security.” Shan’s voice was gentle, though the guard’s face was not. “I can’t just leave you out here, just in case they get rowdy -- and if it helps, I’ll leave the door unlocked. If it gets too much, break out. We just don’t want you dying before we all get here.”

“We don’t want that either.” Roberto bumped Sam’s shoulder with his own, trying to provide comfort with tied hands. “‘S okay. We’ll be alright, right, Sam?”

“This guard has a keycard so I can at least get your cuffs.” The cuff flashed green and Roberto sighed as he felt the power blocking turn off -- like a low-level headache, it had hovered in the back of his mind until it stopped, and he was all the more grateful for it. 

“Thanks, Shan,” Sam murmured, and she held the door open as Roberto crawled back inside, Sam reluctantly following. 

“See you guys in a few.”

The door closed again and they were left in darkness, and almost immediately, Roberto heard the shift in Sam’s breathing. This time, though, he didn’t try to beat around the bush.

“You wanna come over here again?”

“I-yeah. Yeah.”

It was comfortable, surprisingly -- Sam was heavy on Roberto’s chest but it was a reassuring kind of weight, a grounding thing, and Roberto wished it could’ve been under better circumstances, wished that he could just _tell_ Sam about everything that had passed through his mind since starting this damn mission.

 _Might take his mind off the claustrophobia,_ he thought, but quickly dismissed it.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Mmm?”

“Remember a few years ago when Hank, like, ‘came out’ in the papers?”

“‘I’m as gay as the next mutant?’ Yeah.”

“D’you think that this is like that?”

Sam hummed from where he’d rested his forehead between Roberto’s chin and shoulder, tapping his fingers on Roberto’s collarbone. “I don’t _think_ so. He was doing it for -- what, for attention?”

“Or like, to ‘be a role model’.”

“Northstar’s _right there_. We did it for a cover, which isn’t the same, right?”

“I dunno. It’s still…”

Still fake, he meant to say, but the words wouldn’t come out. 

“Still misleading?” Sam supplied.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Well, we didn’t broadcast it to the world.”

“That’s true. And we didn’t do it to spite our exes -- wait, you didn’t-”

“No. Did you?”

“Nah.”

“Good to hear.” Sam shifted slightly and Roberto hated that he noticed, hated that he thought about how it felt to have his hands resting against Sam’s back. _God, why can’t it go back to the way it was before?_

They lay in silence in the crawl space for a few minutes, breathing evenly and in time with each other, content in their company, and if not for the hardness of the floor and the occasional footsteps from outside, Roberto thought he could’ve fallen asleep again.

“How long ‘til you think they’ll get here?” Sam murmured.

“Dunno. I haven’t been counting.”

“Hmm. Me neither.”

Sam sounded sleepy, at least, which was better than sounding panicked, and Roberto absentmindedly rubbed circles into his back, staring off into the total darkness of the crawl space. “What d’you want to do once the mission is over? I mean, sword and key is blown now, probably, so what’s first on the list?”

“Not sure. Are you gonna stick around and say goodbye to your friends?” Sam rolled his shoulders, sighing, and Roberto tried to think only about how tense his best friend was (about nothing else).

“Don’t know. That feels like an awkward conversation waiting to happen.”

“But I feel like a jerk just leaving them hanging.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d say something like that.” Roberto sighed, unable to keep the fond smile from his face though Sam couldn’t see it. “I’ll go if you do.”

“Deal. I dunno what else I’ll do once we get out, though.”

“Visit your mom? It’s been a bit, I bet she’s worried.”

Sam gave a short laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe. Want to come?”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“You’re never intruding. Roberto, I-”

Something crashed above them and both of them flinched, Roberto’s hand finding Sam’s in the darkness as he laughed awkwardly.

“Well. That sure sounds like a rescue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry the last few chapters haven't been on time, but as always feel free to message me on tumblr @speedyshepherd! thanks for keeping up!


	16. Locks and Shields

Dani ripped the comforter off the bed, scowling at the sheets, tension weighing on her shoulders and seeping into her movements. “Seriously. Where the hell can they even go?”

“Nowhere within telepathic range,” Shan murmured, opening her eyes from where she perched on the desk chair. “You’re sure they don’t have class right now?”

“ _Positive_. God, if they chose now to go on a miniature vacation-” Dani didn’t exactly stomp back into the living room but it was close, and Shan sighed as she wondered at the stresses of leadership. Her time leading the New Mutants had been comparatively brief, and Dani was the best choice -- even so, Shan hoped that she wouldn’t stress herself to death about it all.

She followed Dani out of the bedroom, about to say something, when something caught her attention, a sort of shadow out of the corner of her mind’s eye. “Dani. Someone’s at the door.”

“What kind of someone?”

“An extremely distraught someone.”

The four people on the other side of the door were indeed extremely distraught, though some of that faded as they stared at Shan. 

“Who are you?” The tall goth with the really good eyeliner scowled at her, though it couldn’t belay the redness in her eyes that spoke of recent crying, and Shan listened to the music of her mind, the overtones of guilt and sadness.

“Friends of Sam and Roberto’s. My name is Xuyen.” She smiled at them warmly, stepping aside and holding the door to let them in, and the girl in the wheelchair raised an eyebrow.

“Friends?”

“Mutual friends. We’re the reason they met, actually,” called Dani from where she was looking under the couch. “I have a spare key to their apartment, but they’re not here…?”

The tall goth rolled her eyes back in her head, clearly trying not to cry, and the shorter girl with her pulled her closer reassuringly, her mind singing love and worry and fear.

“I’m Naomi -- you’re _absolutely_ going to tell me how Sam and ‘Berto met later, but right now, we’re also looking for them-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but are you okay?” Dani tilted her head, watching the couple with sharp eyes. “You look...upset.”

“I’m Dayna, this is Lynn, and that’s Tad -- do you happen to know where they might be?” The shorter of the two guided her partner to the couch and they sat down, fidgeting uncomfortably under Dani’s suspicious gaze, and Shan felt guilt from Lynn once again, radiating out uncontrollably until she had to fight the urge to retreat inside her own mind again.

“We’re not sure. We came looking because we thought they might be in trouble.”

At that, Lynn burst into tears, turning and burying her face in Dayna’s shoulder, much to Tad and Naomi’s shock, but Shan shot Dani a glance and a thought. _She knows._

“Lynn? This is really important, so I need you to focus.” Dani pulled a chair away from the table and sat down, resting her arms on the back and straddling the front, and Shan thought briefly about how untimely it was to find her girlfriend hot. 

She heard amusement from Dani, tempered with worry, and a thought -- _take a rain check on that?_

_Of course._

“I-I -- they came by and we were talking, I just gave them a card-” Lynn choked out around a stopped up nose, and Shan passed her a box of tissues from where she stood quietly in the corner, still telepathically searching for any hint of Sam or Roberto.

“Slow down. Elaborate.” It might have been comforting if Dani’s own worry for their wayward teammates wasn’t overlaid in every word she said, a quiet note of fear in her voice.

Lynn took a deep breath. “I -- my sister, she’s part of some big organization with some dumbass Latin name. Sam and Roberto came by and -- and they were interested so I gave them one of the weird little business cards my sister gave me and then she _texted_ me and she hasn’t done that in months and so I got worried and went after them and they were being dragged away and-”

“Whoa, what?” 

Shan felt the surprise as clear as day -- apparently this was news to Naomi and Tad, too, though from Dayna she sensed only resignment and sadness in waves.

“I don’t know! I don’t know where they are I just know they’re not on campus and Angie has something to do with it I know she does-”

“Who’s Angie?”

“Your sister, right?” Shan studied Lynn from where she stood next to the window, carefully parsing out what she could from her facial expressions -- even after all this time, really truly reading someone’s mind felt _bad_ , felt wrong.

“Yeah.”

“She texted you?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you still have your phone?” Dani asked. “Can I see it?”

Lynn gave up her phone and Shan crouched in front of her, tapping her knees gently. “Hey. It’s okay. And if it’s not now, it will be soon.”

She sniffled and gave Shan a smile, hints of thankfulness skipping across her mind like a flat rock on a lake. “Thanks.”

“Got it.” Dani tossed Lynn’s phone back and headed for the door, Shan speedwalking to keep up. “I’ll ask Sam to call you guys when we find him, okay?”

“Okay?”

“Where are you going?” called Tad, and Shan gave him a comforting smile and a wave before she shut the door behind her. 

“Out.”

~~~

The initial assault had gone smoothly, and so of course they were due for something going wrong any minute now. 

Dani had chosen her team well and structured it even better, meaning that when Shan moved in (in her own body, thankfully -- her host had been abandoned to sleep off his headache in a storage closet somewhere when it had all started), it was seemingly mostly already finished, the cop cars outside wailing and already hauling off the first batch of miscreants. 

“Apparently they were into some freaky experimentation stuff,” Dani explained, falling into step beside Shan as she walked slowly through the corridors, looking for where the crawl space was hidden. “As far as they know, it was a whistleblower-slash-gas leak or whatever -- no X involved.”

“I’ve heard better cover stories than that,” Shan teased her gently. “Like the one you used to get us out of class that one time…?”

“Which time?”

They shared a quiet laugh, though it ended far too soon in the echoing and unfriendly hallways of the society, and at the corner of her mind, Shan felt something -- someone -- familiar.

_Shan?_

“I found them.”

Sam was shaking when Dani pulled him out of the crawl space, hugging them both tightly before stretching and sighing, rolling his shoulders as Roberto stepped up behind him, giving them both a sunny smile.

“You took your sweet time. I’m _so_ glad I decided to hit the bathroom before we went to go visit Lynn-”

“I’m glad, too.”

“-and also these people can’t afford me. Shall we go?” He slung his arms around Dani and Shan’s shoulders and steered them towards the exit, Sam on Dani’s other side until-

It happened so fast. 

An angry yell, a rush of thoughts familiar yet foreign, Sam instinctively stepping forward to fight a new assailant (Angie, Shan thought, noting the resemblance to Lynn). Block, block, strike -- all basic martial arts, well executed and well defended on both sides. He was gentler than he should’ve been, probably because of her sister -- and before Shan could think or blink or do anything but take a few steps towards them, he paid the price.

To his credit, he didn’t yell or scream, just crumpled over his leg like a broken toy, immediately followed by Angie’s prone body. Dani’s psychic arrow lodged in her shoulder and sent ripples of psychic energy across her skin but no one was looking, the three of them clustering around their fallen teammate.

Shan fought the overload of _fear anger worry quiet love protectiveness_ coming from Roberto, wincing at the intensity, pushing at Sam’s chest to get him up and leaning on Dani. “Let’s go, c’mon!”

“Think she broke my leg,” Sam gasped, and Dani forced a grim chuckle.

“Don’t you just hate it when you’re on the other side of those weird scripted girl power fight scenes? You know, the ones in movies where the lady lead has a fight scene to prove how badass she is?”

“I only hate it when she has to fight the main hero and for some reason he wins.” Sam groaned as Shan slipped out from under his shoulder to allow Roberto to take her place, careful of how the extra weight made her leg protest. “That’s dumb. He shouldn’t get to win all the time.”

“Wow, who knew breaking your leg would unlock your movie opinions?” Dani and Roberto helped Sam down the steps, the rest of Dani’s team waiting by the Blackbird. “Guess you’ll have a lot of time to parse out good movies and bad.”

“Thought we could just heal him instantaneously?” Roberto asked, and Shan noted the absence of his usual jokes, replaced with a slight shaking in his hands.

“I mean, we could…”

“Nah, I’ll take the time. I don’t wanna stress the healer kid out, and it’ll be good to have some time off my feet for a bit.” Sam’s grin turned into a grimace as he hopped up the stairs, the others following, ready to catch him if he fell. “How’d you guys find us?”

“How’d you know to come get us?” Roberto added, buckling his seat belt behind the pilot’s chair, and Dani smirked at him as she passed him.

“Sam doesn’t text like that, so I figured something was wrong -- and then whoever had your phone didn’t reply with the code phrase, so we came looking.”

“Nice.”

“Had enough of college, yet?”

Shan relaxed as the Blackbird took off, steady under Dani’s control, the nightmare secret society mostly behind them at last, and Roberto laughed.

“God, yes. Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again so much for reading!! catch me on tumblr @speedyshepherd!


	17. I Wasn't Gonna Tell You

Less than a day of bed rest, and Sam wanted to scream.

Even reading had lost its shine after he finished his book, the leftover emotions from the ending making it hard to start a new one, and there were only so many naps he could take and podcasts he could listen to before he wanted to get up, go for a jog, do _something_ that wasn’t sitting idly. 

Dani and Shan had come in briefly for a visit, talking and laughing with him over breakfast, but they’d left to attend to responsibilities and even though Dani came in later to talk about the report Scott was having her write up, it wasn’t enough. There still wasn’t much information he knew about the fate of Sword and Key, and waiting on it made him nervous.

“The perils of being an X-Man, huh, Kentucky?” Dr. Cecilia Reyes shot him a glance from where she worked quietly and Sam cursed himself -- clearly, she’d noticed his restless fidgeting. “Might I remind you that you _chose_ this.”

“Not this, specifically.” 

_What would Roberto do?_

_He’d be as charming as possible and then do it anyways._

Sam tried for a smile. “Are you _sure_ I can’t go out? Just a short walk, Doctor, to stretch my other leg?”

She didn’t take the bait. “Absolutely positive. You need to let the leg set for at least a day, and _then_ you can walk around with crutches to your heart’s content. Need I remind you that if you don’t, then you risk it not healing correctly?”

Sam groaned and dropped his head against the wall. “I know, Cecilia, but it’s just so _boring_.”

“Well, if you’d like to help me with paperwork…”

“Better than nothing.”

Cecilia laughed, bringing stacks of work over to his bedside and passing him a few sheets. “All you need to do is copy information from my notes to the correct places on the document, okay?”

“Got it. Wow, your handwriting is neater than I expected.”

“Thank you.”

Time passed in a companionable silence, the scratching of pens the only respite from Sam’s thoughts. It was no use fixating on how empty the bed had felt last night, how quiet it had seemed without Roberto’s breathing and occasional muttering in Portuguese when he dreamed -- and yet, that and others remained, ever present and quiet even when he tried to focus on the medical records.

“Something on your mind, Sam?” Cecilia asked, carefully not making eye contact.

“Eh. No more than usual,” he lied.

The door opened and Sam couldn’t help but perk up, his brain somehow wondering if it was Roberto at the door, and Shan laughed when she saw him slump back down again in disappointment. “Expecting someone else to free you?”

“Aw, that’s not-”

“I was thinking I’d keep him as a permanent assistant,” Cecilia laughed, patting Sam’s arm. “His handwriting’s neat, he works fast -- I’ll just keep him around.”

“We’d like him back eventually, though -- he’s a good person, fun to be around.” 

Sam could feel the blush in his cheeks intensifying, even as he laughed along with them, though the laughter died down as Shan took a seat on the other side of his bed. “How are you feeling, Sam?”

“Better. Kinda sick of being stuck here, though.” He looked hopefully at Cecilia but she didn’t even acknowledge it, flipping to a new page without even looking up. Shan smiled patiently, shrugging when Sam looked desperately at her for help.

“Sorry. Nothing I can do. But I wanted to talk to you, Sam.”

“Should I leave?” Cecilia asked, and Sam shrugged. 

“If you want to. What’s up, Shan?”

“I don’t have to be a telepath to know that something’s bothering you.” She tilted her head and studied him, gentle concern warring with determination, and Sam sighed.

“I-I dunno, Shan, it’s-”

“If you’re thinking it’ll pass with time, then it might -- but that doesn’t mean you can’t get help about it now.”

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“Plus, you can’t help others with your oxygen mask until you put it on yourself,” Cecilia added. “That’s what all flight attendants say, and they’re right. You have to make sure you’re healthy before you go trying to help others.”

“Am I being peer pressured into answering the question?”

“Yes.”

Sam sighed. 

“It’s...well, it’s about Roberto,” he said carefully, and Shan raised an eyebrow.

“Something that happened during the mission?”

“Yes and no. I…” He sighed again, pushing a hand through his hair, and Cecilia finally looked up. 

“Is this a ‘concern for best friend’ thing or an ‘I’m in love with my best friend’ thing?”

“Wow. That was a guess?”

“Was I right?”

“I think that was a yes,” Shan noted, watching Sam drop the pen and his head, burying his face in his hands. “Is this a recent thing?”

“The realization was,” muttered Sam. “But it’s one of those things that look like more in retrospect, if you know what I mean.”

“Sort of.” Sam heard Shan sigh before he felt her gently touch his arm. “Sam, I know I’m hardly one to talk about confessions, but I think you should tell him. It’s better to have everything out in the open, especially in this...profession, and what have you to lose?”

“Our friendship? Everything that was? I could lose the best friend I ever had, Shan-”

“Or you could gain something more.” This from Cecilia, still filling out forms methodically. “In the end you weigh the risk against the reward and decide which one you’d rather have. Plus -- listen, I haven’t known you as long as Shan has, but I’m pretty sure neither of you would let something like that get in the way of friendship.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Do you really think Roberto would let you go over this?” Shan said softly. “Remember, he thought himself irredeemable when he accidentally hurt you.”

“That was also because of the Professor’s notes-”

“Don’t sell yourself short. He may be the best friend you’ve ever had, but that goes both ways. You’re the best friend he’s ever had, too.” Sam finally looked up and Shan smiled. “Even if he doesn’t react well, it’ll be okay. All things pass with time.”

“And with enough life-or-death experiences,” Cecilia murmured, scratching out a passage. “Everything comes around eventually.”

“Too true.” Shan patted his arm and stood up to leave. “You don’t have to take my advice, Sam, but at least think about it, okay? You’re beating yourself up over this more than you have to, and I don’t want to see you like that.”

“Alright. Thanks, Shan.”

“No problem. I’ll come by later with the others when it’s time for dinner, okay?”

“Thank you.” 

She smiled and was gone, and Cecilia looked up again. “Before you ask, Kentucky, you don’t get a free pass to go talk to him. You still need to stay in bed.”

The seriousness of the previous conversation evaporated and Sam laughed, turning his attention once more to the forms before him. “Aww. Just when I thought I had a solid argument.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! as always, hmu @speedyshepherd and since today's chapter is late, expect another chapter later today!


	18. I Wasn't Gonna Say A Word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is v short, sorry. two things: one, i broke my glasses, so i'm doing my best to get the three remaining chapters (including this one) out asap! two: remember that acab and donate to george floyd's family/the protesters in the area if you can. stay safe and healthy everyone.

“Been out here all day, huh?”

“Is it that obvious?”

Dani grunted as she sat down next to Roberto, dangling her legs off the edge of the docks and watching the students across the lake. “I mean, kind of. You weren’t anywhere else, so I figured…”

She let the sentence drift away on the tide and they sat together for a few minutes, watching the students across the water play, and Roberto snuck a glance to the side. Dani seemed mostly unconcerned, kicking bare feet against the water, the ripples disturbing the ducks that floated in the middle of the lake, and all of Roberto’s questions bubbled up to the back of his throat, waiting for a chance to escape.

“Something’s bothering you.” It wasn’t a question -- Dani didn’t ask questions like that. 

“Sort of.”

“Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

“Animal.”

“Human?”

Roberto thought for a second. “No.”

“If you and Sam adopted a dog and are wondering about what to do with it-”

“What? I would _never_.” Roberto gaped at her, false offense written all over his face, and she laughed. 

“Sure you wouldn’t. Hmm. Not human, so...mutant?”

“Yeah.”

“X-Man?”

“Yup.” 

“Someone on Generation X?”

“No.”

“New Mutants?”

“Yeah.” Roberto focused on the ripples on the surface of the pond, ignoring Dani’s glances as she came ever closer to the truth.

“Someone bothering you?”

“Uh. Not exactly?”

“So it’s an internal thing.”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Sam?”

Roberto sighed. “Yeah.”

“Hate?”

“Never.”

“Love?”

“Maybe.”

“Does he know?”

Roberto hunched over, pushing his hair back with one hand and staring at his distorted reflection. His answer was so quiet he doubted Dani heard it, though he suspected she didn’t need to in order to confirm what she likely already knew.

“No.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know.”

She let the matter drop, the two of them sitting together in silence, and finally one of Roberto’s questions escaped. “Did you wish you had?”

Dani raised an eyebrow at him and he cringed. “I mean, if Shan had said no. Would you have regretted it? Have you ever missed being just friends?”

There was more clarification to offer but he gritted his teeth, the feeling of asking too much pulling at him in an unusual way as Dani thought over her answer. _At least she didn’t tell me to mind my own business._

“Well, Shan asked _me_ , so I wouldn’t really know about if she’d said no,” Dani said slowly, staring off into the distance. “I don’t miss just being friends ‘cause being with her….it’s like the best parts of friendship and more, you know?”

“I guess.”

“And before she asked me -- it just ate me up inside, you know? Made me question everything and overanalyze and lose sleep and -- if that’s what you’re going through, I think you should tell him.”

“But what if I lose it all? What if he pushes me away?”

“Sam? Are we talking about the same Sam?” Dani shoved him playfully, laughing. “The same Sam that tried to friendship Amara when she was actively attacking us?”

He laughed with her and the day seemed brighter for it. “Yeah, I guess. She wasn’t saying that she loved him, though-”

“And you’re not Amara.” Dani stood up and offered him a hand, silhouetted against the sun, and Roberto squinted up at her. “C’mon.”

“Where’re we going?”

“To the kitchen. It’s a whole lot harder to be mad at someone -- or reject, or whatever -- when they give you food. Let’s go.”

He let Dani heave him to his feet, following her slowly across the field. “Dani, this is _me_ you’re talking to, remember? I can’t cook.”

“Not with that attitude. Move it, shorty. This is an essential part of X-Men training.”


	19. Home is You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah, the penultimate chapter! thanks again so much for sticking it out this far, and i hope you're all doing well!! there's an important update re: future stuff at the end of this chapter, so make sure you read it!

The music in Sam’s earbuds ebbed and flowed, swelled and sighed, a pattern his thoughts almost followed as the afternoon turned to evening. Again and again he dwelt on the events of the mission, the months that now seemed like a dream, evaporating in the morning sun, and as much as he wanted to hold on jealously the more it faded away until he felt guilty for trying at all. 

It was the age-old X-Men conundrum -- the one about longing for what you don’t have, what you _can’t_ have. The sort of thing that kept every one of them awake at night, thinking about what might have been and what they could’ve had, if only things were a little different. Not just mutation -- if the choices had been made differently, if they’d had different allies, different enemies, more knowledge. Different, maybe, what if.

This time, though, it was different. He’d _had_ it -- not the perfect existence, built on lies as it was, but a wonderful lie it had been. The guilt for trying to hold on to it hissed in the back of his mind, a discordant reminder that whatever love he’d felt had been in the mission, and that he would have to bury it now that it was all over.

He sighed and closed his eyes. _Better to lose sleep than lose him._

So absorbed was he in the music that he completely missed the door opening, quiet footsteps as someone made his way over, the quiet _thunk_ of a tray being set on the nightstand before someone touched his arm gently. Sam flinched and opened his eyes, pulling out his earbuds to see an apologetic Roberto, flour dusting his shirt like someone had slapped a handful across his shoulder.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “What happened to you? Looks like you’ve been through it.”

He laughed, stilted and awkward, and Sam scooted over so he could sit on the edge of the bed. “Yeah. Dani, uh, tried to teach me how to cook.”

“Succeeded?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Roberto nodded to the tray on the bedside table, and Sam smiled to see the contents -- a lumpy-looking roll, a glass of water, and a plate with what looked like spaghetti and meatballs.

“Looks good,” Sam offered, and Roberto gave a short laugh. 

“You don’t have to lie, it’s okay.”

“No, no, I’m serious. It does look really good.”

“Oh. Thanks.” 

“Here, do you want to actually sit down?” Sam scooted over, balancing the tray on the little hospital bed desk, but Roberto shook his head, avoiding his eyes. 

“No, I’m good, thanks. I, uh, what’re you listening to?”

“Here, listen.” Sam handed him an earbud, keeping the other for himself, and they sat in silence together, the music, the sound of Sam’s fork clinking against the side of the bowl, and the distant clamor of the mansion their only other companions. 

The spaghetti _was_ good, to Sam’s mild surprise -- not that he had such little faith in Roberto, but rather that, for a man who claimed he couldn’t cook _at all_ , he’d pulled it off so well.

“How long did you work on the rolls?” he asked mildly, and Roberto started.

“I think around three hours? Something like that -- it took a _long_ time.”

“Glad to see you’ve had a productive day. And it -- everything -- it’s really good. Thank you.”

“Oh. I, uh, I’m glad.”

Something hung between them, something disturbing their usual states of mind, and Sam frowned. His own feelings notwithstanding, the idea that something was weighing heavily enough on Roberto to alter his behavior like that was...worrying, to say the least.

“What’s up?”

Roberto exhaled slowly through his nose, staring off into space. “I, uh. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“I -- so, during the mission. You remember. New Year’s Eve?”

Sam set the tray aside, the memory making his blood run hot and cold in turn. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. I, uh, I was thinking. About -- well, about a lot of things.” Roberto stared steadily at the wall, twisting his hands in his lap. “And I -- you don’t have to say anything or -- I just-”

“Bobby, what’s wrong?” Sam asked gently, and Roberto closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall. 

“I love you. I think. I don’t know but I do know that I -- the mission stuff, it was -- I like you. Liked being with you, and...stuff.” He covered his face with his hands, blushing, oblivious to how Sam’s head was spinning. “I -- I don’t want to let this ruin-”

“Ruin what?” Sam interrupted, and even behind his hands Roberto’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Say what?”

“No, I’m -- hang on.” Sam shook his head, trying to get his thoughts in order. “I mean, you can’t ruin it per se if, you know, it’s reciprocated-”

“Wait, are you-”

“And I think that love is something gained over time, you know, a _choice_ , but I would choose to love you in any way you’d let me.” Sam could feel the heat in his cheeks and he ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. “So, you know. You’re not ruining anything.”

“Was that a really roundabout way of saying that you’re also in love with me?” Sam glanced up to see Roberto’s mouth hanging open in a perfect O, his expression disbelief and exasperation in equal parts. “I’ve been beating myself up over this for _nothing_?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say for nothing-”

“Oh my God! I was _torturing_ myself with that whole ‘oh he doesn’t like me back’ shit but apparently you _do_ -” Roberto gestured at him soundlessly for a few seconds and Sam laughed at the dramatics of it all, reaching out for him and pulling him closer until he was tucked under Sam’s arm, his head on Sam’s chest, still huffing angrily enough to make Sam shiver.

“How did I miss that?” he grumbled, and Sam laughed, feeling lighter than he had in ages. 

“Don’t feel bad. We’re both pretty good at keeping secrets, you know -- we’re New Mutants. Comes with the territory.”

“Secrets are no fun unless you’ve got someone to share it with.”

Sam laughed, smoothing back Roberto’s curls and kissing his head gently. “Now you say it. Glad I get to share this secret with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, here's the news: _**i will be doing a second fic continuing/spinning off the events of this one!**_ i never really liked stories that end with them getting together and i want to explore other things, like a prompt that was given to me a few months back and, of course, the whole "meeting families" thing. since my glasses are out, though, that's been pushed back a bit, but it'll come around probably before july! hope to see you all there when it comes!! <3 !


	20. The Beginning

_Dear_

_Lynn_

_Dayna_

_Naomi_

_Tad_

_Ben,_

_Sorry we left so suddenly -- we heard you met Dani and Shan, which is good, and they said to tell you hi. Lots of weird stuff happened, most of which is irrelevant, but regardless of all of that, we hope you have a good rest of the year! It was nice to meet you this year, even if it wasn’t for a very long time, and both of us want to thank you for being friends with us. Neither of us would’ve made it through without you guys. It really means a lot._

_We’re probably not gonna be coming back in the fall because I transferred out and Roberto’s along for the ride, but it was fun while it lasted! Don’t be a stranger, and we’ll see you around when we see you!_

_Best wishes and lots of luck,_

_Sam and Roberto_

Sam leaned back in his chair, staring at the blinking cursor on the screen and frowning. The email was complete in theory, but even after all this time, something still sat wrong about lying by omission.

Behind him, the door squeaked as it opened, quiet shuffling announcing Roberto’s presence just before his arms draped across Sam’s shoulders, Roberto’s chin resting on Sam’s head.

“How’s it hanging, _querido_?” He leaned on Sam, the chair squeaking, and Sam shrugged as gently as he could without displacing him.

“Well enough. What do you think?”

“I think you worry too much. But about the email -- I think it’s fine.”

“You don’t think it’s, I dunno, not enough?”

“I think it’s a good amount.” Roberto rocked back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet, the chair protesting in harmony. “Not enough that they’ll be investigated, just enough for them to, I dunno, be at peace with it all, I guess.”

“Alright. Thank you.” Sam hesitated before he hit send, though he knew Roberto was right -- too much information was dangerous, and exposing someone else to that information and the danger was a risk he didn’t want to take.

Roberto kissed the top of his head. “We still on for tonight?”

“Only if-”

Like it had been summoned, the perimeter alarms went off, filling the hallways with red light, and Sam groaned. “Depends how long this takes.”

He leaned back far enough for Roberto to kiss him, too quickly for his liking but enough to make him weak in the knees, a moment of disorientation he _really_ didn’t need right before a fight, though he would never have it any other way. “Hopefully not too long, hm?”

“Mmm.” Roberto stole another kiss before racing out of the room, Sam hot on his heels. “We need to block out a schedule for that and refuse to let anything interrupt.”

“Not a bad idea. Just as long as you stay safe, sweetheart.”

Roberto smiled at him, dazzlingly bright, and Sam couldn’t keep the grin off his face. _Wherever I am, wherever I’ll be,_ he thought. _As long as he’s there, I’ll be there too._

_As long as he’s there, I’ll be home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand we're done!! thank you all SO much for coming along, this was certainly a journey!! love you all!! i hope i'll see familiar usernames in TWO weeks for the continuation!! <3!


End file.
